Desire for teenage angst, in memory

Madison Joan Friel August 10, 2002 to August 26, 2002

Desire for Teenage Angst

Would your hair be spiral spun curls
but the color of golden sand like your brother
Would you have my green eyes
but blissfully so trusting and unhurt
Would your skin be as fair as new, crisp paper
and as smooth as tempered glass
"Snoft," my mom used to say
as she swept the back of her hand along my cheek
with a whiff of Shalimar

Would you hate me but not know why
morphing into the independent teen you have begun to explore
Would you secretly tell me everything if I swore -
from the sun to the moon to the stars and back again -
that I would never tell anyone ever
That you would even think of sharing with your mom
So uncool

or

Would you still be my baby love
wondering what all this emotional drama around you was about
glad somehow that you seem to feel you had escaped
for now

Are you a tv watcher or music listener
Is your head stuck in the phone like the others
Are you an old soul
Are you into "real" books with pages and "records" and the like
or do you like everything new, now, unique

Would you love to write deeply or surfacely or satirically or girly
or at all
Would you prefer sweets like me
or spicy like daddy
Would you wear some bad throwback era clothes like the eighties - ew
or would you wear some good throwback era clothes like the seventies - cool

Could I do your nails
Could I do your hair
Would you shop with me
Would you be a force with me against the boys
"Girls' Club"
Would you be my girl, forever and ever
no matter what?

No answer... still no answer... that's what it is.
Constant questions, never answers.
13 years.
Never.
Ever.
Forever.
No matter what.

On what would be your 13th birthday, Madison Joan Friel,
I still wake up thinking of you every morning
and go to sleep with you every night.

With love,
Mommy