Are you my birth mother?
Are birth mothers suppose to be jealous of the life they created?
Are they suppose to put down the very being that they she carried in her womb?
Are you my birth mother?

Are you the woman who gave me life?
When in reality you seem to just want to steal it away like a reaper of death.
When in the big picture you tear me down every chance you get
"You don't love me! I don't love you either! Go be with your father! I don't care!

Are birth mothers suppose to not care?
Are they suppose to put you so low, your demons arise and take you on a journey through hell?
Are they suppose to make you crave the very pain that they are suppose to protect you from?

You say that you want to be in my life when you never call
Never show your face
But I am suppose to do all the work.
Aren't you suppose to be an adult, a role model of what a woman who gives life should be.

Why am I your ugly step child when I am suppose to be the one who you "carried for nine months".

Are you my birth mother?
Can you hate something that you are suppose to have unconditional love for because I came out of you?

I don't think you're my birth mother
Because I unconditionally cannot stand your very existence.

I possess this hunger for harming the temple I proclaim as myself.
Even knowing that I am harming my physical wealth.
This hunger starts as small as mustard seeds.
But can grow to an enormous monster when it feeds.
And what feeds this beast you wish to know?
Is when feelings that are meant to be don't show.
Sadness, Anger, and even depression.
Lay nice and tight under a strong compression.
It feeds off the Anger from others as well
Like when it does wrong and there's a scream or a yell.
Or a word like "*****" or "****" or "*****"
Can be transformed into a weapon even if it's only a prank.
But what it really feeds off the most and is full when eaten
Is when it's broken heart is even more beaten....

i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.

I'm drowning.
My hands search for a grip  on the smooth surface of plastic
and I don't know what ways up or which way's down
I just know that this emptiness is surrounding me
pressing in
Its cheek up against the window panes that are so thick they block out any oxygen that might offer me a little escape from this hell that is reality and
I'm drowning
I'm drowning in my thoughts my sorrows my whole ******* life and the only thing that was certain is gone and now i've got nothing to catch me if I fall so i might as well just crack my skull at the bottom of this bottomless pit but if I do
If I do
You've already lost so much I can't leave you with another empty space to fill with the minutes and the days where nothing will be right
because your only other clutch is 3000 miles and an ocean away and even if we never got along that's too far and you mean too much because to have your heart ripped in half when your eldest is only 15 is too much for such fragile shoulders to bear and, yeah, maybe it messed me up but maybe it messed you up more
and if nothing else you're important
and maybe it's insane and maybe i'm insane and maybe some days it's all I can do to drag myself out from under the covers and pretending i'm okay is too much for me to bear
but maybe i don't need to pretend because even if this glass case exposes me to the world, bare-breasted and vulnerable even if they tear me to shreds one by one and feast off the meal that my flesh provides even if i'm drowning and it feels like i'll never be able to breathe again
if i can show the world i'm weak maybe it'll stop expecting me to be strong and maybe then it will be okay if i don't want to carry on and hiding in my closet with the blankets over my head will be deemed acceptable if not normal and maybe today's hard
and maybe tomorrow will be harder
but i cling on to the hope that one day the sun will shine again and the glass will break and I will be strong and i will be able to put myself together and wake up with a smile on my face thinking "todays gonna be a good day" and maybe that's not this year or maybe that's not next year but maybe when i get there it will be enough
maybe this will all be worth it
because i'm the shattered remains of the girl you once knew  and i'm drowning in the sea of my thoughts but i will take this tape and i will take this glue and i will peice myself together one by one and pretend to be strong for you because
you're the one who needs a hero in this hellhole of a world and I've never been up to the task but if a girl can't save her mother from drowning in the same mess then what is the point of it all.
And maybe i'm the one who's got tears on my face but if i can make those tears fill up a jar and put them on a table then maybe the way the light sparkles through them will be enough to remind me that it's not worth being sad because the world will move on and just leave me behind and it's going, going, going, it's spinning to fast it's going to far
and at any moment i might fly off but my feet are stuck to the ground because i can't leave you.