Poem – Trust

How can I trust
while I’m still vomiting
my mother?
Last night I dreamt
I threw her up entirely
There she was, intact,
sitting in the sink….
Not drunk and hating –
but concerned:
“You look tired, love”
she said
“Can I get you something
to eat?”
I shouldn’t have opened
my mouth –
She jumped back
down my throat.
It’s exhausting carrying
her around everywhere!
I feel I have to
introduce her to
everyone I meet…
I tell them straight –
I’ve an alcoholic mother:
I find it difficult
to trust people.
They smile,
They think they understand,
They don’t realise
That in moments of
intimacy together
She’s liable to thrust
a fat fist
out my mouth
And thump them
with fear.

C.W.