mother II

I understand now
why you always talk to me
about having your children
and then – practically in the
same breath – deny having
any romantic interest in me
whatsoever. you want me
to mother your children
better than your own mother
did with you. you think
that only this can repair
the yawning abyss
she left in your heart
with her toxic
mothering. and if you
were to express any
romantic feelings towards me
it would be too close
to incest because
you conflate me
with her.

it’s very sad, tragically near-
Oedipal, even, but
I can’t do that for you. I have
no interest in that role.
if I wanted kids, don’t
you think I’d have had them
by now?

(not to mention that
there’s a world of hurt
waiting for the woman who
takes on this impossible task.)

you need to learn
how to reparent yourself
and stop
trying to trick a female
into doing it for you
by proxy. I know
it’s not the same.
believe me,
I know that
all too well.
but until you do,
every woman will
look like a mother to you
and you’ll be Peter Pan
forever.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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