Heirloom

A beautiful and brilliant woman,
With a horrible past,
Tries frantically to get away,
But it suckles at her breast.

A strong and independent woman,
Willingly bears the burden alone,
Taking care of her own mistakes
So a debt is never owed.

A broken and deserving woman,
Searching for the love she never had,
Too desperate to see
That unconditional love
was trying to hold her hand

A determined and resilient woman,
Set on proving them all wrong,
Career-focused, self-obsessed,
No room for the little reminder of her past,
Who is left feeling quite alone.

A successful and empowered woman,
Wanting the love she feels she’s owed,
She goes back to a man she’s been with before,
Planning to start a family of her own.
She gives birth to a little blonde-haired girl,
And the ten-year-old burden
Becomes even easier to ignore.

A glowing and prideful mother,
Living a life she always dreamed she'd have
Yet still her thoughts are plagued
A constant reminder of a past
She views with anger and shame—
Her perfect family photo ruined
By a ginger stain.

An unfulfilled and stubborn woman,
Afraid to love what she naively created,
Fearing all her potential would be forsaken,
Never to rise beyond the life she was given.
But time solidified her resentment,
Closing her mind to change,
Unable to bond
With what she saw as a mistake.

A beautiful and innocent child,
Dealt a hand she didn’t choose,
Starting life unwanted and confused.
Potentially fatal blows
softened by a hopeful mind,
Ignorant of a mother’s love,
Neglect taught her to survive.
The loneliness of her life
Stunted her ability to bloom.

A kind and silly child,
Eager to please,
Born luckily with a shield of empathy,
Which helped soften the deepest wounds.
She understood the ache of jealousy
When her mother loved another—
One who shared her womb.

A wise and charming teen,
When asked how she keeps smiling,
says, “I will not be the ugliness around me—
I simply just refuse.”
Guided by a compass shaped
By the experiences she walked through.

A sharp-minded and altruistic woman,
Choosing to see through her mother’s eyes,
Hoping to gain understanding,
Choosing to forgive.
She did the best with what she knew.

An enlightened and loving woman,
Did what her mother could never do.
She chose to love instead of brood,
This gave her wings, and away she flew.
Escaping the shackles of her past,
She chose kindness, and it set her free.

My mother may have never said I love you,
or held me in her arms
But I chose to love her still
For she was my mother
beautiful and scarred
and I, her daughter
carry both of our marks