When generational tithes come to a close, 
Death would be the kinder option... 
But death did not come in time 
For the willow to wilt
And the remains of my patience to disintegrate. 

It was not death that took her. 
Rather, it was the will to no longer pay 
A debt never owed. 
It was not lessons taught from love and care, 
But the lessons I earned out of spite. 

I would rather spend my remaining life knowing what it’s like 
To be whole, 
Even as I become this year’s gossip. 
I’ll be deemed cruel for letting her fend alone; 
My behavior unusual. 
Call me selfish because it’s all so unfortunate
That I couldn’t see clearly. 

I can endure it - 
That distant hatred  
Born of ignorance. 

I can, because no one looked 
As she floated to the surface 
With my head still underwater. 
No one saw the hand that held me there. 
Hunters, gatherers, onlookers; 
All they saw was the thrashing. 
The big gasp for air
That only arrived because the neighbors tilted their heads. 

They didn’t - they won’t - know what happened. 
Moments pass and the little things get forgotten 
As I get called dramatic for reacting, 
Or a liar for bringing it up again. 
 
I am the daughter
Of the least favorite daughter 
Of a forgotten daughter. 
There are things we simply don’t mention. 

At least my children will never know 
The beast all my mothers neglected.