Step-Mom
Step mom
Stepping stone
To ten years of therapy
Perhaps with a side of insecurity,
And trust issues,
And sleepless nights
Wondering Why Her?
And How Come?
Asking myself questions
I shouldn't, like
Why Her children
suddenly mean more to him
than I do.
Step mom
Stepping stone to quick rejections
And uselessness
And the feeling of wet gum
Stuck to a quick shoe
And being scraped off
With a sneer,
a glance of disgust,
just throwing me off into
The wind
Like the balled up piece of paper
with year old information
Like yesterday’s newspaper
no longer relevant.
Step mom
Stepping stone
To being stepped on
And stepped over
But never stepped in front of
And held
And understood
And asked “Are you okay?”
Just ignored
and blown off.
Step mom
Step away from
The life you try to steal
Away from me
The family you try to replicate
Do not duplicate the love
I have
And then turn around
And call my version trash,
step mom, the
stepping stone to indifference
and invitations that were never sent
and conversations that were never started
and love that was never felt,
because the ring on your finger
makes you feel
Privileged.
A queen to a throne that
Nobody
Asked you to take
And that you definitely
Did not earn
or deserve.
But this I can not explain
Without sideway glances
And a tsk tsk
And a mutter
of “Oh she’s bitter,
just green with envy."
Step mom
Stepping stone
To another detached relationship
Another topic to dwell over
and overthink
and bite my tongue over
in casual conversations
or dinner
or tea.