it seems to be widely accepted
that we end up like our parents
even diverging paths reuniting eventually
typical illusion of choice
you know, like in those video games
but they make them different these days
when I look at you,
the person I love most,
even though and because
I don’t understand us or love
I see the ways in which you have given
your self
for me, initially,
and then other reasons maybe
but ultimately
still for me,
probably.
I try to find the person that is my mother
but instead I find myself
coming back to motherhood.
in you I see a life of sacrifice,
a well of love and support.
but in me
I see a dilemma of selfishness.
you gain a purpose
for the price of responsibility
this most frightening thing
you gain a purpose
and lose the freedom
of fucking up
only yourself
is having someone you truly love
more than anything
worth seeing them in pain?
of course you didn’t know
and I’m so sorry to disappoint
but how could I ever
– knowing the pain of existence –
inflict it?
I’m an actor, a storyteller
I should be able to imagine genuine joy
at being
at being alive
the will to live and life
as a gift
instead of a burden
my gift of life comes wrapped
in a pained body –
shortened muscle, weak connective tissue, and a slow metabolism
tied up in a mind cut to ribbons
no colour, no sparkle, just grey matter.
how much pressure on nurture:
to be fucked up by nature
when I cannot even be trusted with myself.
you would make the world a better place
but is that worth forcing you
into a world that so badly needs to be bettered?
I’m sorry. you don’t deserve –
for your sake, I’ll be my own do-over.
– text and illustration by Pat Nehls