At all the wrong turns
and times, and for the wrong reasons,
we vowed love
through false teeth.
You were looking for a mother
I could never be, an anesthetic
for your terminal sicknesses.
And I was hiding who I was meant to be,
afraid of myself.
I am sorry for the mask
and how long it wore me.
Still, I am not sure if you are as fatally sorry
for this headstone you’ve saddled me with.
a dew dropped, more dark than red, rose
waits on the doorstep.
I can live with your ghost no longer.
Plus, I’m learning what it’s like to be me
to like her.
© 2013 Jennifer Wagner
*A poem of mine was selected for the dVerse 2nd Anniversary Contest at Boston Poetry Magazine. I’m thrilled to have had my piece be chosen. Click here to check it out and read the poems of others who placed in the contest. Thank you to all the judges and congrats to all the winners! Great writing, all.