by Kristi Thrush

Created on: October 06, 2007

Mother...

Mother, may I think and feel?
Do you know our brains are separate?
Mother, must you always conceal -
That which of my soul is different?

God, please let her stop comparing
Me to what she wanted to be ...
Father, must I always be sharing -
Her undigested food for me?

Yes, I sprang out from her belly
Perhaps it was my only choice -
Though I prefer black-currant jelly,
Her purple grapes take away my voice.

God in Heaven, and within my soul -
Teach me to withstand this creature.
As her daughter, I must take this role,
Just let it not be a double-feature!

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