My mother would kick my ass

By Kristin Khadija Mahmoud

If my mother were alive

She’d kick my ass

She’d kick it so hard for my terrible jokes

For the terrible stories

And poems about her — well

The one about food painting a mural on her shirt

She’d kick my ass for giving up my dog

And for fighting with my sister

She’s kick my ass for calling my stepmother a bitch

Or kick it when I didn’t

She’d kick my ass for the mean things I’ve said

And for the fears that dictated me

She’d kick my ass for my sarcasm and wit

And for my raging arrogance

She’d kick my ass just to get me out of bed

And to class on time

She’d kick my ass for doubting myself

And for my tear stained trip to the E.R.

Where I had to show the bruises on my arms

The ones I put there.

She’d kick my ass for letting someone

Determine how I should feel

About the daughter she raised

She’d kick my ass and weep

I am her legacy and she saw me for me

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