The Queen

Once upon a time there was a wide-eyed girl with spiral curls and a nervous tick
and her mother was the queen of the world.
In the girl's eyes, her mother knew everything there was to know.
The queen would answer the girl's questions
seamlessly
effortlessly
and the girl would smile up at her with satisfaction
flaunting the juxtaposed truth and bragging,
"my mom told me so".
Years later, the little girl will sprout
tall and curious.
She will glance down at the Queen and ask,
"are you answers justified?"
and the Queen will shake her head profusely
as if there is no other truth.
But the girl will finally see
the stubborn flecks in her mother's eyes
the ignorance in her tone
and realize that,
maybe the Queen still has a lot of growing up to do.

------------------

After the fight I had with my mother I realized that the words I threw at her were pointless and a complete waste of breath.
I had hung up the phone upset, but satisfied, thinking maybe I had gotten through to her, maybe opened her eyes. I had finally gotten to stand up to her and tell her what I really felt.
But later, once my throat reopened and my eyes had dried, I knew that my mother was only scoffing on the other end of the conversation, thinking of me exclusively as some naive child who has no idea what she's talking about.
She has yet to realize that I'm not a child anymore, but that I've formed my own opinions, beliefs, ideals
separate from her own. I have become an individual and either she has yet to accept that or she just doesn't want to.
My relationship with my parents has always been rocky
but after this I feel a permanent pressure against my ribs
because a gate has been opened
and I've been flooded with the realization of how different we really are
and how that will never change.