the non-resolution of meaningless mother conversations

I attempted again, a rational conversation
with the woman that bore me
into the world, premature
and not expected to live

And every time we reach this useless junction
rationality evades me
her negative will too indomitable
her judgment too scathing for me to look at
with unwavering eyes unblurred by tears

To her ears all my words are excuses
I should just man up and take it from behind
like the rest of society, miserable and devoid
of any greater purpose than the holy dollar

I can see every breakdown like a silent film
in my head; every scream, every cry for help
every self-affirming progression back to sanity
meaningless to her shutdown logic
that renders her cold and uncaring

And I’m tired this time of trying
to get her to see my point of view
I’m tired of being told one way or another
that I’m just not good enough

While she is so proud of me
or so I’m told, but words are worthless
when actions speaker louder than clichéd words
though I'm sure she loves me in her own dysfunctional way
I don’t understand her or these “tough love” attacks

That never worked before

While I can guarantee that she doesn’t know me at all
so I’m faking that smile; swallowing the ocean in my eyes
wondering at the cold look I once again got from a woman
who bore this child not expected to live

’Cause I’m not sure I’ll ever be good enough
And I no longer think it matters if I am

© Indie Adams 2012