The Apron Strings

some mothers
and fathers give and give.
they become close friends
with their children.
finishing one another's lines.
sharing jokes,

incestuously close,
out of love,
guilt, some sort of unresolved
shame.
they keep their children
beside them with constant
hugs and kisses,
never snipping the apron strings.
never pushing them out
the door,
out the nest like
healthy parents do.

they suffocate
their young
with what they think is love,
but it's not.
it's selfish and cruel
to never let the child leave
to the adult side of their
lives, to go off on their own.

to find a job, to find a love.
to find their own place
in the world.

they remain stuck in the weeds
and tangle
of their parent's life.
held back by their aging claws,
afraid to be left alone
with each other.

soon the boy or girl has
grey in their
hair, furrows in their brow,
kept safe and sound,
like little children,
forever five,
in the room next to theirs.
forever lost,
forever home bound.