The Mother

I always felt my mother was more of a mother to another.

So in my childhood household, I became the mother.

Naturally, the caring words flowed from me—

I nurtured thee. Comforted thee. Cared for he.

My brother.

I don’t know if I ever wanted a brother,

but I know I don’t know what it feels like to have a brother because I was The Mother.

Gleefully, she’d look to me,

hoping to find a friend in me,

but I can only see how to be, a mother for she.

My sister.

You see,

We learn to be good friends by watching our mother

and confiding in our sisters,

But that option was taken from me,

so all I knew was correction and nurture.

Friends for me,

became use to the giver in me.

Felt judged by me, cus they couldn’t see—

I only knew how to be a Mother to thee.

I felt cursed.

Destined to be only for me.

Why would God set this path for me?

But now, I’m a mother to three,

and shit,

I’m a damn good mother to these three.

I am The Mother.

I now can see I’m not cursed,

but chosen.

My bloodline needed a course correction from me.

Chosen to set a new path for those after me.

Now I just have to

mother me,

befriend me,

so my three can see—

I paved a clear path for thee.