i was adopted,
therefore,
my mom didn't
biologically
pass down any traits
to me.
not my eyes,
my hair,
or my smile.
but, you know what
she did give me?
my low self-esteem.

society has taught us
not to believe a girl
that's been hurt,
especially if shes
been hurt
for a second time.

ç'est la vie.
such is life.
my brother got it tattooed
across his ribs.
my coworker repeats it
all day long.
but,
*******,
was it just life when
my mom called me an
irresponsible *****
days after i helped with her bills?
was it just life when
i skipped every other class
to sit in the bathroom and cry
because i didn't feel wanted?
was it just life when
my biological, drug-addicted mother
told me i was growing up to be
just like her?
was it just life when
i got a text from a boy who
was concerned that i was pregnant
from ***, i don't remember having?
was it just life when
my grandma cried at the alter,
praying to god that
i would finally become sober?
was it just life when
my brother couldn't even look at me
as i sat on a hospital bed
after trying to end my own life?
was it just life when
i spent the night running from the cops
after my mom threw me on the floor
and wanted me back home?
was it just life when
my alcoholic sister
screamed at me that
i have a problem?
maybe it wasn't just life.
maybe it was just
my life.

I am a master at lying
It is an art
I’ve become so good at it
That when I say
I am fine
I almost believe myself

you don't know pain
until it's staring you
straight in the eyes.
this time
it's your mother.
she's tired and even
wilting.
and you're the reason why.

when i was young,
i thought my tears
would nourish roses.
now that i'm older
i know they will
drown sorrows.