Not realizing that it was she
her who offered him up
to the dark
he was her sacrifice
to the hardships of a martyred mother
his pyre built of suicide threats
she made in crayon on the too fragile paper of his soul

Did I mention
how she refuses to take credit for the one and only
act she truly caused

how easily she took credit for his beauty
refusing to see the ugliness she gave
That he also accepted
as only a child could

Cuts of pain opened on his arms
and his soul
from her razor sharp words
little slices of hate that never heal
They still bleed today
long after the flesh is available for damage
the soul remains

in minds of others in hers as well
always will he be
pacing over a floor of regret
polished to a shine
only made possible by the souls
of guilt ridden mothers

07/11/2009

Author's Note: A work in progress

Posted on 07/11/2009
Copyright © 2026 Maria Terezia Ferencz