Sometimes I try to do as others always say you should do when you feel, say, your lip tremble for a split-hair second
\nwhen you realize that she never calls
\nAnd when she does it\u2019s basically to pretend for whoever she\u2019s around that I\u2019m even a blip on her radar screen
\nthroughout the course of her day-to-day goings-ons
\nAs though she suddenly snapped out of some bout with amnesia
\nand miraculously remembers everything
\nas though she hasn\u2019t been out of frame for the last several seasons of the show
\nLike she can walk back in
\nAnd demand the producers resurrect her character
\nfrom the most recent death she suffered;
\nthe last being the fatal fall
\nshe had when she slipped on a stick of butter
\nwhile making oatmeal.
\nJust one in a long, long list of necromantic revivals.<\/p>\n
You get so tired of writing her
\nin and out of the cast
\nthat you finally just say,
\n“Enough is enough!”
\nand resurrect her zombie of a character,
\none last time\u2026
\n…to be played by a different actress.
\nThat way, you don\u2019t have to worry
\nwhether or not she will be on set for her scene
\nOr have to wonder
\nif she even cares that she is holding up
\nthe entire production- cast, crew, staff, the writer (that\u2019s me)
\nevery time she injects herself
\nonly to eject herself,
\nwith a quickness like\u00a0Jackie Joyner-Kersee
\nBut then there is the sadness,
\nthe whimpering emptiness
\nthat she cuts out of you,
\nleaving a void of blistered lacerations
\nand pink, fleshy scar-tissue.<\/p>\n
You ask yourself,
\n“What is the difference between now and then?”
\ntrying to find the good memories
\nOf a time when she cared,
\nbefore she shut the world out,
\nbefore whatever cog shot loose
\nand she quit loving you
\nWhich is the moment
\nthe numbing truth of the matter sets in
\nand you realize
\nthat you don\u2019t recall any so-called happier days
\nBecause she\u2019s always been
\nlike this, to some degree, on some level
\nAnd on some level, to some degree,
\nshe will always be like this<\/p>\n
But you will carry her weight,
\nnot because she deserves it
\nor because she\u2019s changed
\nNot because she\u2019s earned it
\nor because she does or doesn\u2019t call
\nto ask about your day,
\nyour week,
\nyour month,
\nyour year.
\nIt\u2019s because she is your mother,
\nand it is what a son should do,
\nbecause you hope
\nthat if the shoe were on the other foot
\nThat she would
\ndo it for you
\nHell, that she would
\ndo it for herself<\/p>\n
But in the back of your mind,
\nyou always knew
\nThat life isn\u2019t fairy dust and rainbows
\nAnd that those sorts of wishes
\ndon\u2019t ever come true
\nHurting is this one’s heart
\nThis story
\nMy story
\nThe story of a broken son
\nAnd his broken Mom.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sometimes I try to do as others always say you should do when you feel, say, your lip tremble for a split-hair second when you realize that she never calls And when she does it\u2019s basically to pretend for whoever she\u2019s around that I\u2019m even…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":206,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12190","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12190","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/206"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12190"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12190\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12251,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12190\/revisions\/12251"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12190"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12190"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12190"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}