Fourteen

My mother
Said I would never
Be allowed to cook
Alone
 .
She said
When she was a child
It was different
She
Smoked
She was
A different person
 .
Her mother knew
But didn’t care
“Just don’t
Smoke in the house”
~
I
Am delicate
A flower
She
Was a rugged tire
Rolling towards
Her destiny
 .
I
Float along
In dreamy life
Unaware
Of what’s around me
 .
If I cooked
The pale pink
Frosted cake
Would burn
Hers
Would weather the day
And my tears
Of anger
Would flow wetly around
 .
She
Standing strong
Would fix it
Since she
Lived in a
Different time
Her life
Was different

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