My Mom That Didn't Have to Be

A terza rima sonnet I wrote about my fragile relationship with my stepmother

A mother’s role is not an easy one,
A taxing undertaking, to be sure;
And if it weren’t for you, I would have none.

But you would make me feel so small, demure,
With words of anger and a cruel hand;
Of my own place and worth I was unsure.

There’s only so much hurt a child can stand
Before they numb themselves to their own hearts.
I know I’m not the daughter you had planned,

But truly we are not that far apart.
I know you loved me in your own way still,
And maybe in that love, we can restart.

Despite it all, I love you even still,
And Heaven surely knows I always will.