Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Life as the daughter of my mother.

Poetry By: paloma0703
Memoir



Ever wish there really was a place where you could take your mother and trade her in for a better one? I read a book like that in elementary school and wished for that place every single day after.


Submitted:Jan 2, 2013    Reads: 68    Comments: 6    Likes: 2   


Life as the Daughter of my Mother

11 She pours rice and salt on the ground and this is where I spend the next hour, kneeling, holding a bowl of water on my head. When the buzzer goes off, I pluck the rice gently from my knees and wipe the blood off of my legs. I don't know what I did wrong.

13 She is the proudest mother in the world, her little girl is in a pageant, brings home good grades, is head of the color guard squad and beautiful.

15 She says she wishes I was dead. There is a 2 foot piece of water hose on the counter that she has sliced into strands and looks like a green and black mop head. It rips through my jeans, (you can't see the cuts and bruises under there) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…. I lose count. I clean the blood off of my legs. I don't know what I did wrong.

17 I'm off and married, escaping her faces. Too young, too early, too frightened. But free.

19 She is the proudest grandmother in the world her first grandbaby and from her favorite baby.

21 You're doing it wrong, the baby needs this, and the baby needs that. She slaps my identity. I clean the blood off of my lip. I don't know what I did wrong.

23 Married life isn't for me; I'm successful at being independent. She taught me that. Be strong. You came into this world alone, you will die alone, and you must learn to survive alone. Her motto.

25 She can't believe it. I've made it on my own. She isn't happy anymore, she is jealous. She never had the courage to break away and let my father be happy. He had the courage to stay.

27 My third pregnancy. She sees this as her last chance to take control. She hopes it's another boy since I want a girl.

29 The distance has healed all wounds. The ocean that separates us washes away all the sorrow.

31 Her visit. Jealousy oozes from her pores as she sees how close my beautiful daughter and I are. My little girl is my identical twin. I know I'm doing something right.





2

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.