A Weak Disbelief

We’ve both been weakened

to disbelief in the badness

of those around us.

Disbelief takes hold too slow in us.

We’re weakened by our belief in people.

(But how is it possible to be weakened by belief?)

No one’s written about a Mother break up.

Not me breaking from my Mother;

My Mother

Breaking

From

Me.

None of us know

we’ve been gifted such a “mother”

until

we’ve fallen in love with them,

been failed by them,

and forgotten what it means to be a self.

Instead we stay daughters,

in service

to the weak egos

of older, weaker women

than ourselves.

But WE are the strong ones.

We made our strong selves.

We made ourselves people,

while someone else

used us

to make themselves

seem like more

than they actually were.

We supported ourselves

while someone else

withdrew support

and provided judgement instead.

We learned to love others

while someone else

taught us love was

leaving

in the moment of need.

We’ve escaped with our minds and hearts intact

as our mothers travel

their own wrong chosen paths.

I’m breaking with you, mother.

My brother was right about you;

my father was right

to drink

to forget about you.

And now I’ve forgotten you, too.