My mother
who made me
who drew elements from the stars to do so

she holds me

accountable for my actions
She is a tough teacher and
her lesson is urgent

She holds me

down when I try to turn away
She sleeps with locked doors, provides
no gateway to the stars

She holds me

responsible for her grief
I owe her the stars, and
her gifts should not go to waste

She holds me

cradles and supports me

and I owe her because she made me.

This poem was written for a prompt by @mghughesauthor on Instagram.