Motherhood

You won’t believe me when I say this, but you’re breaking all the rules.

At least, all the ones that matter to me.

Despite the name “motherhood,” it’s not supposed to be about you,

But about me

And all of the lessons you didn’t teach me,

That you couldn’t teach me if you tried.

It’s supposed to be about me

Learning to tie my shoes by watching you tie yours a million times over,

Though you didn’t notice because you were too busy with yourself

To see me seeing you.

If I said this to your face, you would tell me that I was wrong

And that I don’t love you.

And I would wish that at least one of those things were true.