Un-Mother
I thought it was the rage I feared
underneath my hurt
underneath the pain
of being un-mothered
I pushed down the anger -
rationalized
intellectualized
normalized -
life as a child
with an un-mother
to avoid a rage I feared would destroy me … or her…. or …
a burning, white-hot, fist-punching, legs kicking, eyes blazing, feet stomping, full body rage
how could I not have seen
below the rage?
the tiny steps,
the slumping body,
the hung head,
the heaviness
of grief
a grief for being un-mothered
a grief that threatens to undo me
Oh! if only I had stopped at rage.
Copyright © Ruth Hawkins | Year Posted 2019
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