macerating misery

misery loves company

mother or miser,

how about both and?

now that i am older,

now that i take care of my own needs,

i can face the facts,

that i chose fantasy over fear.

the familiar over the one family member i did ask for,

but had no idea how to take care of.

“you didn’t do anything wrong.”

words i should have could have

wistfully wish i whispered,

choosing comfort. companionship.

captured. chinadolls.

she bathed us until we got our periods.

she cut our hair, our nails, as if we couldn’t.

(yi run got in trouble for cutting her hair in class)

the first time my little sister had to go to the hospital was because

she was cut far too close to the cuticle and

the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

forgive and forget.

we didn’t have locks on our doors.

we didn’t have a say, children were to be seen and not heard.

contorted convoluted creation of childhood

“DONT PRETEND YOU’RE STUPID I KNOW YOU’RE NOT STUPID”

mere minutes after asking if we were stupid,

waging rage at our childish wonder and ignorance - inquisition

“you think i’m enjoying this? you think i wanted this?” -

you clearly had some regrets

“you have such a chip on your shoulder” - how do you think it got there?

who chipped away at me, till i could barely feel there was any me worth salvaging.

sacrificed to those around me,

to prove to you i wasn’t selfish.spoiled.

“you’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” -

i don't know what 'this' was,

i'd been trying to connect.communicate.

“i do so much for you and this is how you treat me?

i fed you. i raised you. and this is how you repay me?"

-payment. commodity. commodification.

“speak up, you’re always mumbling. stop mumbling”

a mother’s chinadoll.

she never cared about the temperature of the water that she bathed us at - when we told her it was too hot or too cold.

she never cared to remember that i didn’t like my hot dog stabbed

even though i told her

every

single

time.

she didn’t care that we didn’t want or like things she did,

because she had the power and control,

we were Her dolls.

there are so many more ways of hurting someone than just physically.

“the slowest way to kill the one you love is never loving them enough”

-taylor swift

what if she calls it love when it’s anything but.

what do you do in that case?

two faces.

a real Gemini.

she was a Cancer though.

the real cancer that took him from us.

she had no idea what he liked.

i don’t know if she was capable of care.

an actress who put on one hell of a performance for everyone else.

no one else knew her true face.

the one she hid behind closed doors.

the callous words she would chuck our way,

as if we weren’t children deserving care.

envious of the empathy,

everyone else exuded.

excluded.

what mothers are supposed to do versus what this mother did.

it’s difficult to dreg up,

difficult to dive deep,

the memories i mistakenly made,

wasted time.

i don’t want to waste anymore.

i need to stop carrying the chains,

claim my choices and continue onward,

how do i do this without closure,

without accountability?

can i leave her behind?

what are my responsibilities?

my main one is to myself,

protesting punishment -

prioritizing personal potential.

my next is my sister,

given and chosen, at long last

grateful for the gift

i think that for right now, that’s all i can hold.

who else do i choose?

who will i choose?

my life, my choice.

the magic of the mind,

making you believe in what you will to be,

mystifying mirage.

may it be you.

maybe.

memorizing the mesmerizing

membrane of your mind?