My Mama thought I’d have a BETTER life without her.
My Mama thought I’d be better off without her.
She thought a lot.
And then again and again
Stripping the taste out of such a good recipe
With me as an ingredient
And leaving herself with her results to view
Self made woman’s life.
But I ask
Where is god?
Is god in the middle of her recipe of life at the end of each day?
Where is God?
In her references of me?
My Moms mind thought
What. Does her heart say?
Is her heart even allowed to speak?
Or does her mind call all her shots beyond the world of me?
I feel. Deeply.
She’s crying out.
To the God in her box of goodies.
God to make this right?
She’s finally contrite?
I’m talking about my Mama now.
Don’t get carried away with all that adoption ass bullshit.
She’s still my Mama.
Nothing really changed but my location.
Clearly sees it all.
All the role plays.