Carissima Madre

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poetry.

Submitted: May 21, 2017

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Submitted: May 21, 2017

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Countless talks and discussions --
the most salient, to you; done
in the most repugnant of ways
for an understanding never to come.
 
But they were nothing more than
emotions sprawled out in a fog,
onto the floor as untouched
as your daughter's dead dog.
 
Just as painful,
and unrelenting of such;
no support,
only appearances to keep up.
 
The struggle comes, then the realization
that an attempt at resolve is utterly pointless.
Then the tears come by the hundreds,
each one saltier than the last; caress
 
me, for as the tears exit,
so does emotion -- see.
Leaving me
numb but free.
 
For as the days go on,
the shorter yours become.
Banish everyone out --
who are you left with? None.
 
Your friends, family, 
always the black sheep: you say.
Inevitably the lies were
only meant to turn us astray.
 
Convenient amnesia,
and the blame stick goes round...
The weekly meetings
just to bitch your daughter out.
 
Your hold you no longer have on me;
don't bother to fight, for I am forcing ill --
free to dance, forever in your envy.
I'm glad you can forget but I never will.
 
So write me out
of your final testament.
I want no part; 
this is how you left it.


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