Thursday, November 7, 2013

dreaming & pretending

by brianne wiseman

i make their meals & shush their cries
i clean their messes & give them baths
i tie their shoes & do their laundry
i change their diapers & brush their hair
then i look in the mirror and wonder
what am i doing here?

i always thought i would belong in this life
but the days of screaming & fighting & lonely car rides all together
when nothing i do is ever nearly enough
i wonder
what am i doing here?

i should be able to comfort her
but i don't even want to try anymore
i should be the one in charge
but i am not, not even close
i should be enriching their lives
but am i stifling them instead?
i should be so much that so often i'm not
and i think
what am i doing here?

as a child, i dreamed of motherhood in all its glorious charm
beautiful beings devoted to me, our mutual love palpable
both of us eager to please, just to witness the other smile
and life would be a painting, on the banks of paradise

as a mother, the reality is often harsh and tiresome
it's trying my hardest to please each one, only to make them all unhappy
it's waiting for a thank you mom that's never going to come
it's you always and you never and i love you and i hate you

and in my reality i've had to find my paradise
ushering in both the greyest of skies and the most magnificent rainbows
and i could sit here and pretend to only see the rainbows
life is a lonely, long day sprinkled with prisms of brilliance

and i choose to watch the prisms dance

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