Confessions of the Daughter

i do not love
as a daughter ought
but struggle
daily not to hate

wrestling with forgiveness
i have known
the weakness
of a bitter
acid pumping heart
from youth

and now  must fight
the urge to pull away
from your touch
in disgust
swallowing  the bile
that rises in my throat
at the vision of the whores
your hands have caressed

endeavoring to forget my mothers
screams hurt anger and despair
is like trying to forget 
fire burns
and why should i
lest i desire to rage again
in the inferno of my childhood

and yet now i must forgive
again i must trust
no matter how many
times it shatters
even if the pieces
become fine as ash
still must hope be reassembled
if only to break again

they say to be free
one must forgive
yet i think itd be hard
for one born in captivity
to throw off the yoke
and embrace freedom