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Contemptuous Maternal Wrath

Your socio-biological theory was put to the test when you took hostage a vulnerable, confused, angry, abused, broken, young man and combined his DNA with that of your own. A calculated, sociopath; a shrewd and corrupt businesswoman, one who did whatever it would take to be elevated up Ma Bell’s corporate ladder in some delusional journey to Telecom Utopia.
Victor Frankenstein himself would tip his hat at your handy work. As the result would bear a broken, angry and confused little girl. Your rejection allowed her to feel alienated, unloved, and completely alone within her family. That little girl was exiled to room and inevitably deep into her own susceptible mind. 

The truth was revealed just a spoonful at a time. It is still too much to digest. However you simply weren’t willing to struggle as hard as other black women would. You had a brilliant thought; your execution was prodigal and rapacious. You surrounded yourself with only white people, you married a white man 10 years your junior after putting him through school and molding him to your desired image, you delivered a child who was half white and moved to an all white town. It was good for you, it looked good for your career and for your fa├žade. You lightened your skin with make up, you spent no time in the sun, you spent as many hours away from home fixated on your career and the character you portrayed to the public. 

Your husband sought affection elsewhere, as did your daughter. Sex and drugs came long before puberty.

When you reached the point of realization that there was no one left to be further baffled by your bullshit at work, you made the lateral jump into the Catholic Church where you continued your performance, now as a modern day working class Mother Theresa… 
The hard-working breadwinner of the family, the mother of the lost child, the unsuspecting wife of the cheating scoundrel. 
You gained their trust, you formed a band of supporters, continued working at a reduced schedule of just 60 hours per week and suddenly your daughter and husband would be subject to the judgement and scrutiny of your newfound loyal fanbase, their community. 
This was too easy. You merely planted the seeds and let the small town church folk do the rest of the work for you. You could see the light so far off in the distance, and to you it was the ultimate win/win. 
Final stop: HEAVEN.
...
I've learned how the mentally ill believe the lies they tell themselves, but isn't that true of all human kind? 
Do you deserve a convenient excuse for your calculated and sociopathic behavior? Should it be written off as such? 

You were embarrassed by your own scion and ashamed of your roots. You found it better to cast out the child than to expose the darkness inside of the mother. 
Without knowledge of family history, ethnic culture, or even basic life skills, I would inevitably find myself young and vulnerable, much like the condition you met my father in, but with a child of my own in tow. 
Unbeknownst to me you had been dutifully preparing for this day. I was without resources,  I was scared and despondent, I had no choice but to capitulate. Desperate and depraved, I had somehow fallen into your debt... 

You took my daughter, turned her against me and closed the book; paid in full.

I assumed the darkness from you; and the debris of shattered emotions from my father. Gratefully, I inherited his empathy and analytical process. Of course, I always knew that I had failed you, I was truly nothing like you. I emit selflessness and love, you are pure poison. To your credit, I do have the ability to be devious and cunning, but to my father's credit, I have a conscience. The idea of hurting people the way you do turns to acid and burns deep into my heart. When I think about who my mother is, I feel vile and inhuman unworthy of any conventional solace.

Except for when I think of seeing you just one last time.

I become physically high on my mind’s preview:

I'm standing over you; my hand slowly tightens around your throat. I'm watching longingly for the light go out from your eyes.
Good bye once and for all; you pestilent, old wretch... good bye.

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