Poetry Contest Entry

Mother?

~By Ammie

Hug billowed skirts of apple pie,
I love you so but mother comes,
In morning sun she has arrived,
Sweet tumbling angel laughing eyes.
I did not know how young I was.
Train hums rattle along the track.
Hey! Spying, moon-glassed whiskered stare,
I don’t mind, look at me, can’t you see her by my side?
I smile at the trees as they race by.
My room, my room, my very own,
Leave suitcase waiting on the floor,
I hug my pillow it hugs me back.”
I’m happy mother, look” I cry, my mother looks,
They’re not her eyes.
I’ll try, I’ll try, I’ll try so hard,
Did you not hold me in my dream?
You loved me there; you’ll love me now?
Each night I’ve wished it on a star.
Mother you will be so proud.
Its oh so dark, my head it aches,
She will not know my bed is wet,
I’ve covered up the guilty patch.
Don’t hurt me now I’ll be so good, I scream.
Then climb inside myself.
Dustman smiled, with lazy gaze,
It warmed the cold and blushed my face.
Mother said, “You slut, you whore,” what does that mean?
I’m warm no more.
Teacher I have really tried, my blots of ink are fairy tales.
How the lady loves her prince, and look, they hold a laughing child.
Can you not see them through the mist?
Please be my friends, why laugh at me?
Fingers reach and pull my hair,
the tears fall down my eyes are dry,
It is so silly, my pudding style!
Just go away, I do not care.
How soft you are you, little cat,
A silky purr against my face.
You love me, love me, little cat?
I’ll squeeze you tight, so very tight.
Oh please don’t run,
I did not mean to hurt you much.
Old man bent, unworn shoes,
I’m sad he is not new.
Takes my hand, says goodbye,
they must not see me tell his eyes;
they will not believe my intent.
“But I will be your friend” he says.
The years are cold,
my legs are thin and belly round.
Mother, help what red is this that stains my thighs?
She laughs and turns, my head is bowed.
I hope I’m dying deep inside.
Persephone you left the light,
share your seeds, you have six I’ll have twelve.
I run, I run, my mother sighs, a wilful child, the policeman smiles.
Please, please let me be Icarus and fly.
Am stoned and bound inside my head,
lost fragile dreams on empty walls,
once made you warm and drank you in,
But mother, you weren’t there at all.

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