A POEM TO MOTHER ON MY BIRTHDAY

My smile first found its way

In your celestial chest long ago

While the umbilical cord was not

 this weak to hold us together.

I have been alive long enough

 to understand the curves of your mouth

 and glitter of your eyes 

and I know while you search if I wear a red whorish smile. 

You put me in a glass box and 

took me out once in a while but never found the dust and cracks. 

In the dinner table you examined me 

like an unknown bacteria 

asexually reproduced in a petridish, 

but never understood the mutations 

I underwent. 

You interpreted my dreams 

in words of unprocessed sugar ,

playing roles of God squeezing me 

like clay in hands.

When Iam too embarrassed to 

blow out the birthdat candles 

you tell that it is just 

the season of growing up,

 ignoring my plea to be  alone.

You braid my hair and put lotion

on itchy pink bumps of mosquito bites

but am clever enough to hide 

the purple marks in my hand

(We hide our scars and words, 

this cunningness is the thread that hold us with thousand generations of unknown women) 

You chew my star in hushed anger

gifting me a little living bat

as a birthday present while

you remain like an undigested morphine pill, present yet painfully absent to erase 

my feverish gasps.

Mother 

Are you ashamed that my filthy body was once yours? 

Do you regret I have half a share of your chromosomes but I can't be a successful replica of your life? 

Mother, 

swinging between hope and despair ,

 while you crush the lavender

 I grow in my hem, 

I find a stranger in myself and

I don't know who you are.

Should I be sorry for 

What I am? 

Should I ask forgiveness 

for what I am not?

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