Another's tale - To not know a mother

 I was four when I looked up at my mother sleeping on the living room floor

her head curled around the dining room table

discarded pillows and a throwaway laid untouched by the couch

as if she had told herself she did not deserve to poison the delicate threads 

I was six when I met my first 'uncle'.

His hands were bigger than my legs, as they gently bounced me up and down on their knee

I watched as one uncle grew to many

As mother watched with vacant eyes

I was eight when I told my brother to run away

The uncles were too rough on his soft nature

red marks and imprints had embedded themselves upon his skin

as mother said nothing from the side of the cracked furniture

I was ten when I raised my voice in a burning fire

of insults and accusations and words that rang with truth and lies

I was a child made of flint , striking against fuel

I was ten when I told my mother I did not want to see her

I was 11 when father came on my doorstep

he brought a new brother along to convince me of a better life

mother screamed and hurled profanities I had never thought of

I was 11 when I learnt my parents didn't always fight

I was thirteen when I found myself in a new home

Another mother who did not know how to care for another's child

She tried, bless her heart she did it in her own way

But I was thirteen when I realised

A mother does not drown herself amongst smoke clouds of white

she does not raise her hand after every bottle

a mother does not smell like the aftermath of Katrina

A mother should never push me away from home

I was 15 when I realised I lacked the nurturing love most recieved

so I gave and Gave to everyone around me

pieces of myself, everything I could offer

To recieve a semblance of what love could be

I was 16 when I finally realised. That love can not be chased this way

mother taught me enough from young

that no matter the blood ties between family

love lasts long but never is it meant to stay

I was never young enough to grow up without a mother. But I know not if I miss it , or the idea of what a mother should be. I know not.