Feel for what you ask?
A feel for how many times I prayed to god about Mama.
Why? Did she do me like this?
How? Could she not see inside herself that not even she would appreciate this?
Yes. It’s swirls around in my head like a toilet bowl. Round and round my birth, questions. Why?
Cuz? I don’t believe she saw. At the time of my birth. How hard I cried, slash tried to tell her with all I had. Which wasn’t much. Just a big loud voice and no words. To say No!!!!!!
But. Mama. Didn’t want to hear that back then. Little cry compared to a big shout from an adult that can articulate and communicate how it felt to be at the other end of the knife cutting me off from her.
I’ve been upset a while. And I’ve been writing the angles and reason down here. To record this now that I’m old enough to do so.
Mamas need help too. Mine never got hers back then. She refused me. And now god let me come back around to try again and again to help bring Mama back to center.
Kind of like pulling a building back on her feet that’s Alive and fights with you. Now it’s her saying no to me. She never listened to my no. She ran over the top of my rights. And now she says no when I speak up and let the whole world know how it felt that fateful day back in 63? Precious. So entitled.
She can’t seem to take it? But expected me to take her? Leaving me like that? With a woman that didn’t have a clue. Because Mama never gave her one.