Breakfast With a Teenage Daughter
I hear the door open.
It is my chance.
I run up from the basement to
see my darling offspring who used to
love me, sneak out of her room.
She looks up from her cereal.
Is that a growl?
I smile. “Hi!” I say brightly.
She looks back down, glaring now.
The crunching stops.
I take a glimmer of a sliver of a glance at her sketchbook.
surprised. I did not know she was helping herself with
her feelings. I feel heartened. “Can I see that?”
She does not move, does not make a sound.
She grunts.
I look down harder. Perfect likeness of me.
My head has been half-way chopped off.
My mouth is distorted, she is screaming.
There is a lot of blood.
An axe with a pool of it at my feet.
Although this is done only in black black pencil,
I know it feels like blood.
Can I see another one? I ask.
Silence.
You are so talented! I tell her.
You don’t get that from me.
I only draw cartoons.
I am no good at all compared to this.
Your drawing is WONDERFUL!
But she angrily whaps the notebook,
Turning rapidly to the next page.
She and her friends are laughing.
Big loud laughs, wide open wide.
Hahahahaha is written all over the page
In every corner.
She has nailed herself, and them.
I know each one of them.
Tiny image in background
Is the perfect image of me,
Just my head though,
No body or anything.
I see the blood dripping and pooling.
My head on a pike this time.
Just my head.
Perfectly drawn. I recognize myself
Instantly. Wow! I say, “This is TERRIFIC!”
You are so GOOD!
I remember what it was like to be 13.
She is 13 and a half.
Her biggest job is learning to hate her mother.
Push me away, baby.
You have to.
It is the natural way, so you can fully
Turn into a woman. Someday you will come running back,
But not today.
You need to do this now,
So you are able to leave home.
I am sorry about all the things your
Body and your hormones and your
Feelings have to go through to get
There, but this is a start.
I love you, I tell her.
This is wonderful!
Keep this forever.
When you have your own 13-year-old daughter
You are going to really need this!
She stomps off mad, just like she is supposed to.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment