mother

I never figured out
how to get along with
my mother, and now
despite my intentions,
I fear I travel that same 
road with my child.
People tell me she is
just on a journey and
will return. But lately,
I catch glimpses:
my dead mother
grinning at me in
the rear view mirror,
her arms reaching
around the seat to
pinch my guts
between her
angry fingers.

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