Listen to your mother. She may not
Calm you. Some days, she may cause you to question
Your every move
But she loves you like the tender takes the oil
Listen to your mother and, whether it be to face
A loved one who craves provocation
Licking at your worries like wick to a fire
Remember that saying no in the past
Meant autonomy and truth, not exile and shame
You learned this from her
And you can practice again
Listen to your mother. Even those things she never says
But comes to mean.
In her crazed moments when those words crawl from her mouth
Spiders only with the intent to bite
Read between and sift through her pride,
her joys
What was too difficult to ever say?
The bane does not begin and end with you
She was young once
She recognizes the benefit of judgment
And hopes one day you will too.
