Mothers,
They're suppose to be your superhero,
Your best friend whom you can speak with at any hour,
Your biggest advocate,
-
The woman who does all your laundry
Now, you may have made me smell like Gain and Lavender dryer sheets
but you made me feel like my own worst enemy
especially when you slipped out words of rotten dimension
glaring at me through the eyes of disappointment and shame
regardless of this monstrosity that you call a "parenting skill"
I have been forced to listen to you ***** and moan about how the only reason you haven't ******* killed yourself yet it because you are a
--GODLY CATHOLIC WOMEN WHO HASN'T BEEN TO CHURCH SINCE 1989--
you say there is a light at the end of the tunnel
I say you are full of ****
when you preach about how your childhood was drab and terrible because your mother called you fat and a zero so I guess there really isn't a reason for me to be mad at all for you doing the same ******* thing to me as she did to you.
She ripped you of everything fair in the godforsaken world so I'm guessing it's only fair to return the favor to your FAT 16 years old daughter who has grown into a perennial of self loathing and late night smoke breaks
you took family road trips and created day time guilt trips and late night auto collisions.
You remember don't you?
When you thought I'd keep my ******* mouth shut when you set off on a rant about my father, the man you loved for 22 years and through tears and clenched teeth we ate heavily illuminated sheet metal and with every heaving breath I took all I could swallow was your *******.
All I ever wanted was for you to be happy,
I tried so hard to put everyone first and to be a good ******* person
As a daughter, who has rarely felt anything less than your cold shoulder has wanted nothing more than your love and affection, all I had asked for was your nurturing attention and all I got was an angry mother yelling at me asking why I even came home last night through a door that you told me to close.
Swollen eyes told me that your words burn hotter than my Pall Malls as they both sit in the pit of my chest
My hunger pangs remind me that my mother doesn't think I'm beautiful in my size 13 jeans but would look much, much better in a size 8
I have always been so afraid to make you sad but now I realize that you won't ever be happy
you will never be content with me nor yourself
nothing I do will ever be good enough for your high set standards and all I was doing was looking into an empty pit of false hope that one day you'd be a good mother
and I sit, and I think about all the **** you put me through
and with each drag of my cigarette I grow to not give a **** what you think, but one day i hope you can find peace with at least yourself
because when you need someone to sympathize over your petty life
I WILL NOT BE THERE
You call it selfish,
I call it returning the ******* favor.