Mother

By Rishika Tipparti

She is the reason why when i look in the mirror

i see a dream in progress and Her worst nightmare.

the expression i love and spunk i pride are anomalies

in what could be the portrait of the – Her – /perfect daughter./

She is the biggest reason i look at the future with hope

because i know that / She’ll follow me / wherever i go /

so / i’ll hold Her hand / and take Her with me /

to see the dreams / She gave away / so i could have mine.

i am the /monster/ She created || a /reflection/ of who She was

once upon a time and still haunts the halls of our house

as we /terrorize/ ourselves and each other because like /Mother, like daughter./

because in daughter’s fiery face Mother sees the ghost of herself

and looking at Mother’s erased fate, daughter fears for her own future.

i am the reason why when we stand /side by side/ and look in the mirror

i see Her dream in progress and my worst nightmare.

because i look at my Mother’s tired face and her tired arms and aching knees

and the ever bleeding, stretching love that comes only from a womb

and wonder – where would She have been if not for me?

i have Her temper and Her tongue, like flint and steel

and when we’re in the same room i either feel the warm glow only we could share

or i see the sparks fly as She see Herself in me, and /can’t recognize either./

because /i hate Her/ but /i love Her/ more than anything

and i want to be /just like Her/ while being /anything but./

sometimes i make Her tea and we sit together at a table

and talk and talk and talk and i recognize myself somewhere in Her,

a /daughter Herself/ with a /Mother of Her own/

that hides behind the label of wife and Mother like all our Foremothers did too.

She tells me that i would go on to do things She could never do.

because Mothers pass on the weight of a thousand Mothers’ unfulfilled wishes

and their watch their daughters carry it just as gracefully as they did themselves,

because the Umbilical Cord is thicker than any other bond there is.

i see the love and sacrifice and all the time

She saves for Her /only/ daughter – saves /only/ for Her daughter

bonded by womanhood and the endless cycles of things learned in the womb.

and my whispered midnight wishes that if my Mother were to leave me alone in the world

that She would come back and stay with me as my daughter

so i could give to Her what She gave me and neither of us ever had.

because we are the reason why our broken hearts are still strong

after all the heavy words and tears and unsaid emotions;

we are our worst nightmares, but nightmares are still dreams.

By Rishika Tipparti