My mother asks me to forget
the things I am only starting to remember
I am allowing myself to see things as they were
Not as I needed them to be. Not as I was sure they were.
I have fired my memory
Vacated the position of making it okay
fixing it in post
My work is to remember it raw now
To punish myself for turning into her
To make sure it doesn't happen again
To end it with me
I will not have children
I will not love a man
I will not ransom myself for his love
I will not hold myself tight, waiting for him to choose me
I will not hold myself tight, waiting for someone else to make me feel real
I will not mother children in my image, I will not pass on my delusions about sky daddy
I will not make myself right and allow everyone else to be wrong
I will not be certain, I will not be 'good', I will allow my life to keep its messy shape, its sharp edges, its confusing contours
I will be puzzled and in awe and not in control
I will not fight the chaos. I will not bend human beings to my will using guilt.
Of course I will. Of course I will.
But if I remember, If I hold on to the things that she asks me to let go of
I can mitigate this shit
I can stop myself
I can choose a different way
I love my mother. I wish I existed as more than a reflection of her desires, triumphs and failures.
I am leaving to exist as more than a reflection of her desires, triumphs and failures
I am remembering to exist as more than a reflection of her desires, triumphs and failures
I am not letting go, I am clinging to the contours of myself
