Tuesday, November 2, 2010

your mother's tragedies.

dried up lakes remind her of her mother
and she doesn't want to be the girl
who wrote a thousand poems
for a boy she never met

eating grapefruit
makes her think of her mother's mouth,
of lipstick left in the tube too long, 
and she doesn't want to spend her life
missing a face she's never seen

her mothers hands smell like bleach,
nails chipped, 
and she doesn't want to wake up one morning,
with her mother's tired face
and yellow eyes,
still in love with ghosts of men
from her mother's past. 

2 comments:

Diana said...

wow...

YourOasis said...

oooh nice. and great deep message.