Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Like Mother, Like daughter

Like mother
daughter sits at the mercy of hands that can easily overpower her tiny frame
She sits within the same stillness of her firey name
Making the struggle worse then intended
Like mother did
when she chose to end
the toxic cycles of a love unintended

Like mother,
daughter sits
shedding rebellious tears over unavoidable pain.
Knowing the consequences
she still takes part in the game
yet falls to anger  everytime the rules change.
Unable to anticipate the play,
she quits as if the only way
Like mother,
daughter was angry inside.
Born with an unsettled spirit,
a waste of potential as mother scolded, 
daughter was a spioiled, lazy, bitchy, crazy,  whoring brat
the way mother told it.
daughter would hold those words in her throat until she was too old to swallow it.
Like mother,
daughter abandons home with no destination but gone.
Its not long before she finds mothers eyes in her own.
Can recognize what mother dispised; herself
wishing more of her love survived her absenses
daughters face was simply a reminder of when she was someone much closer to her true self. 

To be like mother was daughters greatest ambition.
For hours she sits watching through cracked mirrors
at the reflection she stands to inherit.
Wonders if
she too will disguise the beauty she is proclaimed to possess.
Or if like daughter,
mothers mask keeps out the unwanted.
Hids true intentions and heartaches
plans insessently,
and dreams of greatness.
like mother, 
daughter will cover up the true colors of love written on skin.
she too will buy two shades lighter to compensate for the added hues of black and blue.
Like mother,
daughter wonders if love is tru & blind how its aim could be so accurate,
its touch be so rough?

Like daughter,
mother covers up
the wrong with a blanket of righteousness and smiles.
She learned quickly to speak blunt wisdom
with the ease of sweet tea.
For mother
diverting attention
from violent intentions became something of a specialty.
So much so she became a personality,
living a life of luxury,
something like a fantasy, glamerous & empty,
too fantastic to return to reality,
so she hopped onto a pipe dream, never truly returning,
daughter is stll searching for mother in her eyes.
Like mother,
daughter weaves a tangled web of lies,
searching for alabis to redeem her. Justify the decision to remain prisioner to her irrational fears.
In daughters darkest hour
is when the pattern appears
and she finally understands,
there is no difference between them,
just time and distance.
Because even though they never shared a name,
& their circumstances differed
they both turned out the same.

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com