A DAUGHTER'S GOODBYE - Rhyming Story Poem by Aurora Hudson

 

A DAUGHTER'S GOODBYE

I step out the front door, my boots crunch in the snow.

I'm calling you on shit you deny that you know.

I wrote a letter by hand—a more personal flow.

I can hear your sneers now. "You need help", "Let it go."

 

Though you won't listen, these words I must share.

Come at me with rage. You'll see I don't care.

I'm no longer your scapegoat, door mat, or pawn.

I'm free of it all, your mindfuckery's gone.

 

A true garden master—you pot ideas and plant seeds

I bloomed as you bid me, yet you gave no reprieve.

Tears pearl in my eyes as memories surge.

But with this message, the truth I shall purge.

 

I walk down the path. It's dark, getting late.

There's no turning back. The mailbox awaits.

I'd die happy tomorrow, just knowing you know. 

Though you'll never acknowledge the truth in my woe.

 

You scorned my success—unless it made you look good. 

You gaslighted, slandered, and did all you could,

 

You estranged me and my sister—you tore us apart. 

Said I called her a bad parent, broke her trust, her heart.

 

You turned my father against me. Made him into your slave. 

Shame him publicly at church for mistakes he has made.

 

My first time with child, you extinguished my glow.   

Saying, "Husbands see babies sexually you know."

You've triangulated, schemed, belittled, and lied.

Then turned it on me in the blink of an eye.

 

At just seventeen, you said, "Wear baggy clothes."

No tight pants or shirts—ensure no skin shows.

"Because your father might look in a sexual way. 

Be a good girl and help keep his urges at bay."

 

I stop short of the mailbox, gripped by cold fear. 

I dread when you read this—what wrath it shall rear.

Despite all your evil, guilt lingers inside. 

For you're still my mother, a fact I can't hide.

 

Maybe Mom's right. I've been a horrible child.

Is it all in my mind? Am I to blame all this while? 

"Do NOT believe that! She's messed with your head."

I squeeze my eyes shut, starving lies that you've fed.

 

I've finally set boundaries—barred your cruel ways. 

Yet I still hope for change, that it’s just been a phase.

That smiles might return, and toxicity dissolve. 

We’d be a loving family, and all that involves.

 

I wished I'd been smarter. Seen the signs younger. 

Would that have kept life from tearing asunder? 

Perhaps I should've just done what I was told. 

Eyes wide shut, swallowing whatever you doled.

 

The ‘what ifs’, they plague me. They always will. 

Acceptance is slow—the truth, a bitter pill.

A mother who loves shouldn't willfully harm.

You should care for me more than your own public charm.

 

I’m sure I deserve better. I'm worth so much more. 

All I can do now is cleanse pain from this sore.

 

I open the mailbox, drop the letter inside.
A sob wrenches free and I whisper, "Goodbye."

Aurora Hudson is a Canadian author of multi-genre short fiction and poetry who enjoys coffee, sweets, precious family time, and pouring her soul onto the page -- but not in that order. Should her words positively impact even a single person in this crazy life, she'll consider her task as an author to be complete.