Half the Girl I Used To Be

When Momma had me,
She wanted the perfect little girl
Who never cried or shouted or embarrassed her.
A good little girl, she said, is polite like me.
Good little girls don’t yell, or scratch, or struggle.

But I screamed and cried and wailed every night,
Until she stole away half my soul.
She told me: Don’t be ugly.
I’m protecting you from the bad things that ruin good little girls.
Only for you, because I love you.

Now I’m half the girl I used to be.
My half self smiles politely and never raises her voice.
But a bit of her dies inside
Every time she’s being good.

Momma loves her little half self girl.
Momma thinks I’m calm and quiet – perfect as can be.
But I think my Momma’s not so perfect anymore,
Not the lady she pretends to be.

Now she yells and swears and spits.
She’s got more woman than she can handle.
But she won’t give back my half of me.

I’m always comin’ back to Momma these days
To visit my other half,
And I know when I give Momma a hug,

I’ll still feel my half soul under her wrinkled skin,
See my half self raging behind her dim eyes,
And hear my half self crying in the beating of her heart.

Momma’s got more woman than she can handle,
And I’m half the girl I used to be.