She stumbled more than she walked,
she slurred when she talked.
She had a hitch in her hip
from that time she gave the slip
to the cops while she was drunk around
Old Man’s Holler.
She ran so fast,
as fast as her young piece of ass.
The old folks say
That’s the day
She got knocked up.
Stomach heavy, hips wide,
Baby laying her low
Her green eyes shone
like jealousy, money and avarice
She was convinced the source of
her power rested in the apex of her thighs
where she grudgingly pushed me out.
Her resentment hung heavy and slow,
Always simmering under the surface
Until it blew,
staining the ceiling with her
Black sludge of anger.
When she left this world,
I felt freer than I’d ever felt.
Unencumbered, my life finally my own.
Weight of her expectations,
her lies lifted.
But now, I’m still trying to figure out
who I am.
Sorting through the rumble of personality
She wanted to be king,
Without the headaches it brings.
Trying to shine brighter than the sun,
A bad ending is the only thing she won.
This poem was written in for reasons. One: as a response to The Reverie Journal’s prompt this week “Say Goodbye.” I also wrote this as a bit of a character sketch for Addie’s mom in my novel that I’m working on, “Bloodroses and Honeysuckles.” She is not alive in the novel, however, you can see she definitely has influence over Addie’s life.