His Mother Poem by Callisse J. DeTerre

I see how it surfaced -
her festering desire to control,
her oozing need to live
in dreams and to deceive.
Delusions have no worries or rivalries.

She thinks as a child feeling
never secure,
fixated on her childhood pain,
unconvinced that her mind games
continue the family ritual of shame.

He won't believe in love -
what mothers do because,
what we tried to do but
couldn't make him believe.
He felt safer trusting eight years of pain.

He thinks without feeling
even once pure,
fixated on her words that stain,
innocence corrupted by 'bad boy'
your fault, hate you, go away' and 'He's...'

He's threatened my life again -
robbed me of my breath,
destroyed my home,
and yet for now I'm relieved
because he hasn't killed her... or me.