“play stupid games,

win stupid games.”

—unknown

she remembered the rules

the rules mother sewed in her resistant heart

(despite the acrid smell it brought)

with that whetted needle—

child

you do as i say

child–

other variations of the

remark

the rules were made clear,

bloody clear.

—

yet

the girl was a rebel

a rebel who tried to be abrasive

with her speech,

only to be gagged every time

by the hand that fed her

because

BE DAMNED IF YOU STEP

UP TO THE WOMAN WHO—

half rebel.

but,

actions suffice.

—

the girl grew up,

no longer being a weed in the ground

that mother could bury—

‘cause you can’t bury a 5’7 flower!

(fool).

—

with each passing day,

the girl adopted

an acrimonious layer to

her disposition

—she was no longer going to

be gagged.

“child, you do as I—”

the girl silences her.

—

now it’s mother,

tied with the ropes of rebellion,

gagged by the makeshift cloth

made of the skin of her daughter’s heart—

the same heart she sewed the rules on.

she watches the hourglass, scared.

her mind sits idle in a labyrinth

of torment—

walloped by the rebellion of her daughter,

time’s up, fool.