Life, Love, Poetry, Writing

Motherfucker

Why must you be a child all the time?

With those dark, knowing eyes

and just-five-more-minutes-please smile.

Can’t you see that I’m tired?

I don’t have the time to play with you.

Maybe Tanya and Tina let you get away with it

but I’m not one of your little friends.

Yet you still try to sneak your way into my bed

When will you outgrow this phase?

Creeping fingers caught in the cookie jar and all my

spilled milk.

‘Mama, how much longer you gonna make me wait?’

You know I hate it when you call me mama.

I don’t have the time to nurse you, burp you, or change you.

 

— Janine Serioux

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s