I will weep
When you get
What you deserve.
I will cry out with pain
When they hit you
And spit on you
And call you names
Showing their hate
Of you,
Making you feel stupid
I will lose sleep
Waiting for you to
Come home, bruised
And beaten
So I can hold you
In my arms and
Rock you to sleep
I will know why.
What you’ve done
Is unforgivable
But you are my son
I can’t help but love
What I’ve created.
I take care of him
It’s all he asks for
But it’s a mighty request
Shopping, cleaning, laundry
Cooking, working, loving
Caring, caressing, covering
I was alone for most of the weekend – any activities away from the house, and he wasn’t there. I don’t mind leaving him be. I’ve been there – in isolation, not wanting any help, so I understand. Sometimes the only way out is through, but it does get lonely. And I do need help.
And then he grumbles
When I ask him to
Wash the dishes
Like a spoiled child
Expecting ownership
Of his caste.
From Where She Stands 