Teresa Tomas
Mother, did you hear?
I don’t need you anymore.
I’m all grown. I have a man of my own.
If you care, I’ve grown out my hair.
Mother, did you see?
The time is turning late
I liked you more than dad, especially when I was sad
But he didn’t scream like you.
Mother, did you know?
You could fix those things you know.
It’s called therapy, you know.
(I’m a therapist. I would know.)
But mom, what do you say,
To your mother, who you hate
To your mother, who you love
As her father slips away?
Mother do you know,
That he made you this way?
His beatings and his words
The bruises that he laid
Mother do you know,
That you can pass the blame?
Take credit for his sins,
Give up your maiden name.
But mother, don’t you know?
You raised me better than
To turn my sunburnt back
On an old and dying man.
You could’ve been the shade,
But I’ll be what I can,
As you relive the loss
Of what you never had.
Mother, did you hear?
It’s softer over here.
There isn’t so much shame.
There’s no one here to blame.
Mother, won’t you come,
To where the water’s fine?
Where I forgive your parent
And you start being mine.
Raleigh women's art collective 