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Affliction for Affection

Dear Mother:

You picked at my love
it was a cancerous sore

that would never heal

I was quite the weal

oozing, gaping, open and wide,

I was mostly your disdain,

not your Mother's pride

something to correct
something to ignore
something to sanitize
something to remold
dissolve away like

sometimes I wished it was me you would abhor

so then I'd be free to hate you instead of ignore

the pain of being nothing

it'd be so much better than to malinger in limbo

than to carry the weight of you

and your heavy indifference

only then I was freed to answer question #336

the one which said, I didn't really love you

I was completely different from the mix

a mere invalidation, unlike the rest

how like me to be messing with the test

me being the so-called excuse for a life

I was cajoled then told

that I was now quite a prevaricator

if I denied away your maternal progenitor

look at me now

from your true blue heaven

I've  become the wailing monster

who desires Mamma's love but who never never knew

what kind of beast laid the egg that hatched into her

or how now

life has become
a windy howling hunger
the preening need for a Mother
who is no more.

Copyright May 1 2016 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
time stamped 6:57 am PST

Re-edited January 13, 2017, 6:35 AM Pacific Standard Time

Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World.


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