The mother wants to know why the daughter still wets the bed at 13 years old
Fully developed body much too large for training bras or junior sizes
She says, I have beat her, punished her, I took away the TV and she must come straight home from school but she still pees
And in a house full of male cousins and miscellaneous uncles, I want to ask what shouldnt have to be the obvious
Because sometimes the trickle of liquid between legs says what the mouth can not
What it is afraid of
Ashamed of
And I see her
The girl
Sitting there showing all the signs of a woman in a child’s body
And I close my eyes and will myself not to cry
And I inhale deeply
Release slowly
Ignore intuition and listen intently but her body is silently screaming THEY ARE TOUCHING ME
And her mothers not listening
The smell of pee soaked mattresses and sweat fills the room
Her mother says, I made her sit in those clothes all day, if she wants to piss herself then she should sit in it too
And a part of me dies in that room
It simply lays down next to the innocence the woman child lost and it remains there
Yelling at the mother would do no good
I can not convince familiar eyes to see what even a stranger can see through
She knows
She knows but rent is high and money is short
She knows but she feels the child will be fine, after all, she was and her mother did the same thing to her
The cycle is repeating itself
Author, Poet, Playwright, Director chic.... Old Skool around the way girl.
