Her

I’ve known her for a long time

No matter how much I try 

I don’t like her

When I see her walk in a room

I cringe; I frown

“Did you really wear that today?”

“Look at your hair.”

Everybody seems to like her

She smiles with her eyes

She lives a carefree life

I’m jealous

Her life reminds me of my pain

Her dreams are ones I never dared dream

Her friendships are deeper

The way she loves is meaningful

I’m worthless

I never had the opportunities

I was afraid to believe

I picked my path

When I see her I don’t see me

I wanted to be a wife

I would like to live her life

I’m hurting

I refuse to hug her

Not one word of praise

If I loved her she might think she’s better than me

I’m withdrawn

Everything I’m not is in her

Places I would like to go she’s been

I will not acknowledge her accomplishments 

I will point out her flaws

If I can make her doubt 

I’ll feel better

“Your children are high maintenance”

“How dare you breastfeed your child in my presence?”

I will neglect her

I will not protect her

I’m helpless

I didn’t have a protector

Nobody loved me

I refuse to love her

I’m lost

“You act like your father and he was nothing.”

When I see her

When I hear her

When I think of her

I’m left wanting

She calls me a name 

The one that cuts me deep

It’s a constant reminder

I glare at her as she begins to speak

“Mom…”

4 thoughts on “Her

  1. thewalrus86 says:

    You’re jealous of your own child?

    • tolive4u says:

      No, I’m not. But I know people who appear to be. This poem is not about me but about the mothers who are or who struggle to be happy for their children. They’re out there.

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