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“You’re taking advantage again!”

Dearest one,

don’t you know—it’s dangerous

living on the receiving end?

Reject, eject, get me out of here.

Maternal emotions

were always meant

to be feared.

Once understood—

as invisible.

Today, though,

I guess I woke up

waging

on miserable.

Going, going, yet never getting too far.

Steps frozen in the snow

and wistful—near-blissful coins of affection

tossed into a jar.

Am I doing enough?

Am I sharing—too much?

In a moment of weakness,

will I cash their bluff?

“You’re always taking advantage!

Here’s your updated total.”

Receipts of caution

and interest-conditional care,

with tokens of reprimand once bestowed,

I—

the neverending transaction

with a balance still owed.