The Trilogy

So these three poems were written over two years ago in response to a therapist-type figure in my life telling me to write about my earliest memory of my mother. "Rose" came from that initial prompt, "Rosalita" from a following prompt which told me to "fight back", and "Joe" came from the final prompt which is harder to explain. Enjoy my seventeen-year-old mind recreating my four-year-old mind!

.........................

"Rose"

A door slams, a drawer slams;
everything slams

No, no, no,
she's mad again.

The bathroom door explodes.
She's naked, her hair is EVERYWHERE.
I'm still peeing.
I pray she doesn't see me:

Get small, get small, get small...

She sees me peeing,
looks me over;
looks at my muddy shoes;
looks at my muddy feet.
“Dammit Rose!”

It wasn't me, It wasn't me.
I promise, I promise.
Please, stop yelling...

“Don't just sit there!
Say something, Rose!”
The front door closes:
Daddy's home.

Save me, save me.

He opens the bathroom door;
sees naked mom;
sees me;
sees the mud.
“What's up?”

She hates me.
Help me.

“Rose tracked in mud!”
Chin scratching...
“Looks like the dog's feet.”

You see? You see?
It wasn't me...

Daddy leaves,
everything changes:
her hair goes smooth,
her nakedness isn't scary anymore.
She falls over me,
holds me close.
“Oh baby, I'm so sorry.”

I didn't do it, I didn't do it.
See? See?

“It wasn't your fault,
I'm so sorry.”

I'm sorry too.
See? See?

“It's all better now see?
Mommy's not mad.”

Everything's okay, everything's okay.
She loves me, she loves me.
Right? Right?



"Rosalita"

A door slams, a drawer slams;
everything slams.

Not this again.

The door explodes.
I feel her seething anger.
She is naked,
a stark-white pillar.

Get out! Get out!
You don't belong here!

She turns on me,
eyes flaring.
Her hair pulls away from her face,
tangled and thick;
It's afraid of her,
like me...
“Look what you've done!”

I've done NOTHING.
You don't belong here!

She recoils;
her first strike
missed it's mark.
She is disoriented.

You have no power here!
Your pain is not
my fault!
You don't belong here!

She circles around me;
my position is weak,
but I fight back.
The game has changed
for both of us.

“I cleaned this bathroom
all day, Rose!
How could you do this?”

I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!
This isn't my fault!
I didn't ask to be here,
you did! Get out!
You don't belong here!

My words are harsh,
they graze her heart.
She flinches,
recoils again.
“How dare you?”

You don't belong here...

Anger pours off of her;
steamy, sticky, wet.
I choke.
She lets go, retracts her claws.

I have a place here.
Let me breathe.
You don't belong here.

She becomes soft,
pulls away.
The sea rolls out of her eyes;
epic pain.
I want to fix her.

Don't hurt.
You don't belong here...


"Joe"

A door slams, a drawer slams;
everything slams.

“Hey there, how goes it?”

Too much, too much.
What did I do?
Why can't she stop?

“It's okay, it's okay.
I'm here,
I'm here for you.”

But she's crazy, she hates me.
Too much, too much.
I can't see,
I don't understand.

“Look at me.
I'm here,
I'm here for you.
Just look.”

No, no.
She's here, she's here.
Too much, too much.
I can't handle her;
she's EVERYWHERE...

“No.
She's barely there at all.
Look at me. I'm here,
I'm here for you.
Let go.
Let me help you.
Just look.”

Where are you?
She's too loud, too much.
I can't see, I can't see.
Help, help.

Just let go,
I'm right here.
I can help you.
I'm here,
I'm here for you.”

But where? Where?
I can't see.
She's here, she's here.

Stop looking for me;
I'm just here.
Let go,
I'll catch you.
I'm here for you.

Okay.