She roams now.
No place to call home, quite literal.
she loved way back when,
Of a love of her own, happiness, freedom.
I saw that girl when she sang out so bold and swung her hips slowly side to side... filled with certainty of the lyrics genuinity.
She told me weeping, in her very own angered words during a late night phone call,
"I feel like the carelessly thrown breadcrumbs left for pigeons!"
I was taken a back at one of her few displays of articulating her feelings properly and poetically...
Well said Mom!"
she repeated it once more with less pain and continued her unsolicited lament.
I Do not recall a time she said aloud that she was proud of me.
Nor that it means anything to her at all that I am doing so well.
while she stagnates within her meek facade,
A testament to the marvel of the human mind.
the fact that she has kept up this martyr, victim delusion for as long as she has.
All that strength aimed in the wrong direction.
It is a wonder, truly.
If only she could see that she doesn't have to play that role anymore.
abruptly cuts me off with an adamant shout;
"I wasn't abusive!".
She has said that, out of nowhere, through out my entire life.
Totally unprovoked, without any direct accusations.
It does not take much psychological knowledge to figure out why.
It is also clear that she has accomplished her goal.
She now believes them. Absolutely. Her denial has been a success.
Her dreams although... The dreams I saw in the way she swayed her slim hips .
The dreams I heard within her passion while she sang out
"I used to be among the crowd your in with...."
It was her hand that threw them.