From a Distance

From a Distance, I feel loved,
but again, feel left behind
Sister’s gone, the house is calm
but I have another child
At my insistence, for his well-being
from one, and now to four
a mother of many, without my own
How exactly? I guess I know 

Feels like there’s been a death
those letters, awful letters
one to me, to my siblings, even Dad
you can’t take them back now
no matter how much guilt
you may at one time feel,
if at all
there’s no damage left to be had

It has compounded long enough

Just like the time I called
baby screaming in her crib
Jake had just hit me,
yeah I had egged it on, but so what
he couldn’t comfort me after the blow
took the gun off top of the fridge
threatened to kill himself
walked out the door
called you wailing
middle of the night
scoffing on the phone
couldn’t be bothered with our fight
“Get some counseling!”, you said,
“Goodnight”

What if I died, Mom? What if it was a murder/suicide? You should’ve fetched me from across states without a second thought that very night.

At only 23, You should’ve rescued me.

You’ve apologized so many times, but here’s one thing about grievous crimes, the more you do them, year after year, the less the original apology holds. I wish I could trust your apologies mom, but especially after this last batch, after doing what you begged me to do, and now having four children to care for, you have turned the extended family on me even more than they already were (not that I care that much), and have made it necessary for me to work that much harder to lobby for the sake of my family of origin to keep boundaries for you, but they too are intertwined into feeling sorry for your past. I’ve spent decades feeling sorry for it, I’ve felt sorry for mine too. It’s time to move forward and heal this family, and I’ll do it alone if I have to. You’ve made that decision for me.

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