What’s Left of Us​

Issue 13

I sat with her,
my phantom 
puppet strings 
dangling at my side
and semi-suppressed rage 
protruding 
from my middle, 
both of us smiling 
with vapid eyes.
Mother was oblivious
to my little secret: 
I hate her now.
I have to hate her
just enough
to keep her 
from grasping 
my strings 
again.  
Still, she tries.   
I cannot save her 
from the let-down 
of my treachery.
With the door ajar,
she watches me 
walk down the hall,
ruminating
about how happy 
she used to be,
could only be,
as my mastermind,  
before I had 
the nerve 
to untangle us
and leave her
imprisoned
alone.

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Jessica Taylor is a college professor in California who writes poetry in her free time. Her work explores raw, emotional themes, often in free verse. The poems in this submission delve into the complex emotions of betrayal, echoing her personal reflections on love and loss across distinctive life experiences.

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