Made in Texas

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by Lisa Dawn Mayer

I dont know what it's like
To tell you goodnight,
Or to even know a single thought.
I don't get to share
In what you calmly desire,
What you wish for.
I don't get to see
If you ever even think of me,
If I mean anything to you
Other than a Witch that gave you life.
You never got to know
How it felt to have your life growing
Inside of me.
You never got to see
Your Mom in her hippie-ness,
A career girl in her sunday best,
A rocker girl in her leather dress.
A simple, serene human
With compassion and hope.
You never got to know me
Just pictures,
3 visits...
And I'm sure they called me the basket case-dope.
And you wanted to believe them,
It made things easier for you.
You wanted to show them
That I meant nothing to you.
And this is your way
Your 16th birthday
And you're having a party with THEM.
But this is my day when I gave birth to you,
Only 16 myself.
So I shall celebrate my birth of you,
And I shall send my peace
In wave-legnths that say,
"You need to love your mother,
You need to come to her.
You need to know her.
She needs you.

© Lisa Dawn Mayer

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