July 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Four
Cynthia Ruth Lewis

It makes me dangerously furious
when I hear people tell me
"Your mother is so sweet!"

I simply swallow any resentment
that comes up, and reply
"Yes, from your standing point,
I guess she is."

But they could never know that she
is the reason I have dark thoughts;
why I prefer seclusion over society;
why I often fantasize of torturing
and killing people I do not know

She instilled in me an anger,
a frustration I couldn't have formed
with normal parents;
a fear and dislike of society
no one should ever harbor;
an inferiority complex
no child should have to bear...

even after much therapy,
the scars still run deep,
in spite of digging down into the roots
trying to unravel them,
trying to erase them.
I feel them curdling in my belly,
ticking in my head like a bomb,
running in my veins like poison...

and some of my friends
still fail to understand
why I choose not to reproduce.
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