Participating for the first time: We Drink Because We’re Poets, Poetry Prompt

Thursday Poetry Prompt #12.

via Thursday Poetry Prompt #12.

I wear my mother’s honor on my chest,
a shining brightly badge, a
tasteless peach.
Dinner burned black to the bottom of the oven,
empty bottles, tidy apron, legs spread in the dark.
I will always wilt in what she should have been.