Poetry

Family

Her mother,
Punctilious and overbearing,
Picked her apart
Like a carburetor.
She cut off her fuel supply
Loosened her screws
Removed her float and jets,
All the things that helped keep
Her head above water,
And gave them a scrupulous cleaning.

But she left the pieces out to dry
And demanded her daughter
Put herself back together
So that the family car could run
Without complaint
And free from criticism
From the outside world.
If not, her clock would get
Cleaned again.

Sometimes, water is thicker than blood.

10 thoughts on “Family”

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