A mother

Kathryn Fitzpatrick | Fall 2022

White dresses and white smiles
Burnt out candles, conflicting lifestyles
Dark scars which reflect
Her daughter is her project

The little one shrinks when the mother arrives
They say troubled daughters come from perfect wives
The success of one is the plight of the other
But I guess that’s what it means to have a mother

Restricting my waistline as she tightens my dress
Desperate to make sure that I can impress
I watch her religiously apply serums and lotion
Until she’s devoid of each wrinkle and every emotion

“I just think some women aren’t made to be mothers”
Or maybe she would have preferred to have brothers
And she’ll never say it, but we’re on rough waters
And maybe some women aren’t made to be daughters