My mother was a lioness with words for teeth claws of venom speech She said I did it wrong I wasn’t strong I didn’t do enough to protect her with my hands as a shield to cover her head from father’s slap brick lunges.
Why does that sting remain forever? She said I didn’t protect her not enough stains my brain sinking abyss of correction cortex tunnels vibrate a lifetime of depression. Her casual criticism murdered my trust again. Perfectionist Alpha Mama. She’s gone. Why am I still angry?