I Am Not My Mother, Shaniah Newport

When I look at you 

I see diamond shaped glass

Shattered and sharper than 

The points 

That have carved blood curdling cries 

Down my cheeks and from my burning 

eyes; 

The scars are still trying to no longer be there. 

When I look at you 

I notice 

The lips you've given me 

And 

The same brown skin that 

You've melted onto my bones-

And the same scarred eyes 

That you've burned in my innocent eye sockets-

I see 

In yours. 

Though I see myself in these shards 

I am not the sharp edges, for they 

Do not define me. For I am the art 

The edges can paint itself to be 

Like the colorful coifish art you'd 

See plastered on a window over a 

Beautifully made bench made of 

Wood from the earths finest oak 

trees. 

Because of this, dare I say:  

I am not my mother. 

“For me, writing poetry is one of the many outlets that I use to cope. Having a few bumps in the road with my relationship between my mom and myself, I turned to literature to help through said rough patches. Writing this poem, I found it to be extremely helpful with my coping, especially with my journey of figuring out how to break generational traumas. ‘I Am Not My Mother’ is a result of said coping. I hope ‘I Am Not My Mother’ reaches the right audience, providing a sense of relatability and comfort as my words paint their screens.”