Confession
When you aren't sure what to write about, write about something you can't tell your mother.
        —Unknown

I stopped calling for no reason because
you didn't always seem glad to hear from me.
Last week, my dog got more medical care
than I did during my entire childhood,
and he wasn't even sick. I don't talk
to my brother because he's an angry drunk.
When I was a teenager, I lied a lot
more often than I got caught. I hardly ever
wash my sheets or save the greeting cards
you send for Halloween or Groundhog Day.
Your coffee makes my stomach hurt.
I have friends whose advice I actually follow.
I can never tell that you've lost weight,
don't always trust you'll take my side.
When you say you're worried about me,
I feel like I've done something wrong.
I knew I was moving to Wisconsin
for months before I told you. Because
I'll never be ready to live without you,
I have to practice while you're still alive.

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Copyright © 2013 Carrie Shipers All rights reserved
from the Southern Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission