Dear Mom

Growing up, I thought you were cool, Mom,

But then realized you’re kind of like a bomb.

Constantly stressing that you’re going to blow,

Praying the seconds of peace go slow.

Crazy thing is, I’m told to forgive you,

But how do I forgive you for what you do?

You constantly act like you’re the victim,

But leave everyone else with a broken limb.

Your manipulative personality

Leaves me never knowing what’s reality.

Leaves me wondering if you’ll ever love me,

Or if you’ll just forever blame me.

Blame me for something I never did,

Because all I was, was just a kid.

That’s what makes it all a hundred times worse —

You made it seem as if I were the curse.

The curse you used to manipulate my father,

So he’d never leave, nor bother.

You kept him on a leash as if he were a dog,

Kicking him around like a rotted log.

Abusing him and getting away with it,

Constantly treating him as if he were dirt.

To the extent that I had to beg him

Not to go back to your house of grim.

The house where I had to put a gun to my head

Before you could get the chance to shoot him dead.

But I guess that didn’t really stop you, hey,

’Cause things didn’t seem to go his way.

For now, instead of watching me grow,

He is now over six feet below.

How you treated my brother, who was not your son,

Makes me think if you thought this was fun.

How you treated both my brother and I

Makes me wish and want for you to just die.

I honestly refuse to call you my mother,

And we will never be like one another.

For the day I see our similarities,

I will end all my irregularities.

For I’d rather take myself to the slaughter

Than to be called or seen as your daughter.