Name

I give you a name

I call you my mom

You expect me to reach out

You expect me to call

 

The title I give you

Is one you didn’t earn

You didn’t give birth to me

You were not the first

 

I’m so angry at you

I’m not your mini-me

I’m not the child you wanted

But I pretend to be

 

My heart rages against you

Like a hurricane against the trees

You blow past my boundaries

Cutting me to my knees

 

You forsake me and

Oh how your words sting 

No, you’re not my mother

You’re the woman who raised me

 

We play this game

My move, then yours

Ping pong our relationship

Back and forth, back and forth

 

Strangers, you and I

Acquaintances at best

But you believe we’re closer

Every conversation like a test

 

So we dance very carefully

Around elephants in the room

Afraid to touch them

Afraid they’ll move

 

I get anxious and nervous

Every time we meet

The mask I wear around you

Makes me feel six foot deep

 

You say “I love you”

But I’m not sure you do

When asked what you love about me

You responded “Well, I know I love you.” 

 

I drown in your expectations

You criticize my every move

You say, “Care about your family.” 

Like it’s something I have to prove

 

You don’t know who I am now

And it’s like we are estranged

Because the more we talk about nothing

The more I see how much I’ve changed

 

I no longer call you my mom

Because you don’t act like it anymore

The name I give you is your first name

The one you were given when you were born

 
Written by Anonymous