Family Life

I never looked back at your texts;
I knew it would drive me crazy-
Your words, and how I'd let them sink in if I might have...
How that might form anchor.

I don't want
Any more reason to feel bad over this...
To distrust your "seemingly" sincere demeanor,
No nevermind the words that rattle in my head from the things you said
THAT day...
And many...

Like "self-centered"...

And all I can really conclude,
Twisting your words around and turning their rocks over...

Is that,
You must not just know me!

And I think about all the things you've said...all the ways you have loved me, or not...
And what now,
A week before Christmas, and we haven't even talked, but "I'm" self-centered??!

Coming from a mother and family that sees me twice a year? Because u think you know me, right?

Don't have a fucking clue, is what I'm thinking...

Because as I've been encouraged to play it small, and not dream so big...
Oh to lay my Diva and my Martyr down so that YOU, in your household,
Can feel a little more comfortable with me??
Meanwhile...where the fuck had anybody been, enough to have the audacity to call me "self-centered",
When how guilty are we ALL of that?!
I mean, hey...
The last conversation we had was supposed to be about me...
"I'm" the one that wanted to talk.
And I haven't called,
Because you, in your age 40-something, felt it more important to battle me, Instead of listen:
I didn't even get to say a tenth of what I needed to,
Because I got too busy battling your own emotions even though it was supposed to be about mine...
And I got stuck battling your egoic reaction, as I strangled to fight back mine...and I warned you...but you acted like you could take it...
Til I didn't get an apology for your words, along with no family invites...
But why am I just not surprised?
I'm the one that wanted to talk.
I made the leap. The request. Not you...
And I barely wound up saying anything I wanted, as you snidely said to post a million pictures of myself. As you called me self-centered, and accused me over feelings, you have kept in for years, it what it seems like to me.

Man o man o man...

Is that the relationship you have to me?
Shit...it feels like despise...
With your judgements, seemingly nasty.
Masked as concern, until your venom came out.
And I've been sitting on it.
Turning these rocks over.
I would think Dad doesn't care, no call.
I can only assume you don't want me there for Christmas...but "your my mother and you love me right?"
Excuse me, while maybe I suspect it's a lie...
When you can't even reach out to me...
And I just assume I'm not invited for Christmas.
Mostly because, this conversation was never finished. And I still have your words rattling around, like truth revealed to all my gut suspect...
Walking on egg shells in this house...
So that I don't trip powerchords in your little home...
Just by being me.