RECEIVE
“Open wide,” my mother croons,
promising the deliciousness in the spoon
Will free me of the pain in my throat!
As soon as the spoon touches my tongue
I see her eyes, taste her deceit and spew it out!
Her betrayal buries deep within my belly.
I become nauseous.
Trust is lost, deception reigns.
How does one exist if death is served instead of life?
Why give a child a stone in place of bread?
What trick is this?
A trust broken between mother and child.
Nasty is the gift received that pretends to heal.
Bread of Stone
