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Selfish
I used to think parents could fix everything.
They were superheroes,
Fearless
Ready with Band-Aids and Kool-Aid
Both of which could dry any tears.
The first time I saw my mom cry
I didn’t understand
Superheroes don’t cry
Right?
Both kinds of Aid
Stopped feeling better
And the mystery of dark rooms
And darker drinks
Started to.
I didn’t understand
Until I forgot my mom’s glittering cheeks
Midnight masquerades with
Too much mascara and
Not enough happiness
To fill the hole I burned into myself
Mommy dearest forgot to ask
Where I was every night
Too busy drowning in her own sea
To throw a life preserver to her daughter
And it was then I learned
The meaning of the word
“Selfish.”
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This not an autobiographical piece.