A kindly woman
she was not.
More like a malicious youth.
The stains on her face
came from the fact that
she liked to control people.
Goddess forbid that she do
something I asked for.
If she did that,
in her hairy-constipated ego,
then I would be "controlling" her.
And she can't have that.
No one can control her.
Even if it would help us both -
to her it's all or nothing.
She refuses to forgive
and refuses to apologize.
Like my mother;
this leaves no option.
She hates me for loving her,
though I don't understand.
Let go
and fall
and maybe
you'll be
happy.
Friday, July 10, 2009
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