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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.

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