The outside world enters
even after much abuse
It still turns me inside out
She reaches out to me
in a "I don't want to be hurt" manner
that easily reads as insincere
Like a fishermen trawling
prepared to throw away everything
but the exact fish they seek
Am I the one
that got away
or the prize?
Now, after years of separation
she wants to reconcile
our differences
She is more her Mother
now than ever
I am more me
We’ve grown accustomed
to not trying
how can we find trust again
Or is my age
and her rage
that keeps us apart
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