I don’t really know what love looks like
except for a double-edged sword
a qualification if certain
a, b, and c
conditions are met
space
I used to make so many excuses
for my mother
she was young
she didn’t have a choice
but there came a time when she could
have used her voice for me
and didn’t
space
I don’t really know what home looks like
except for a double-edged sword
familial chatter
interrupted
he never raised his voice
but it was lethal
we kids developed intuition
and mother’s timid silence said
“You can only do a, b, and c,
when your father isn’t home”—
life was better
mum was happy
we loved him more
when he was gone
space
I don’t really know what life looks like
except for a double-edged sword
she taught me
that believing I could do
anything was just a
childish fantasy
and that whatever I craved
was unjustified
space
my a, b, c’s of wild dreams
a destiny of hopelessness
she taught me how to cower
and how to inhabit blame
space
but not to live