personal · poetry · thoughts

I Am Not Like My Mother

I’m not like my mother

The perfect wife of an absent man

The present parent to the one off-duty

The caretaker, the homemaker.

I am not like my mother

To wait nights up alone wondering where he’s gone

To spend days questioning if she’s done something wrong

To fake a smile going to gatherings alone.

I am not like my mother.

I am
The one on the other side of the unmade bed

The one abandoned in the shadows of the dusk

The one you would normally snark at with disgust.

I am not like my mother.

I am

Scrubbing off the adultery each day in the shower

Hoping and condemning all in the same hour

Recollecting memories as sweet as they’re sour.

I am not like my mother.

I am

The one dying to share an untold love story

The one whose blood freezes at the mention of your name

The one whose pillowcase is still kept the same.

I am not like my mother

I am

Waiting nights up wondering if he’s ever gonna come

Spending days questioning if this is all something wrong

Faking a smile when people ask why I am alone.

I am not like my mother.

I am.

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