I combed my hair and tucked in my ends
Just how you wanted me to
You never gave instructions
I watched and learnt
Just how you wanted me to
You saw yourself in me
And you always approved
I was perfect for you.
But when the shards of my own being
Pierced the surface
Your terror became most potent,
The glass, once clear as crystal
Now revealed a face
Most unfamiliar
To your own
Only shattered fragments of expectation
Still allowed for your desired reflection.
So with the easiness of blindness,
You force your thin comb
Through my tight coils
And suppress any sense of my self.
Because I am the good daughter,
How could I be anything less?
