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"sometimes, you have to *** in the sink"
what hurts isn't the wanting to leave, it's the wanting to stay
I hate calling you by the "right' name.
Mom.
I don't think you deserve that title.
I don't think you ever will.
do not expect for this to be a poem about love.

I owe you, right?
you gave birth to me,
which means I should be grateful that you didn't yell at me today.
thank you then.

I tell you I am hurt by your words,
but I should be sorry for being hurt by you?
I am sorry then.
it will not happen again.

I ask to close my door,
but this is your house.
you ask for me to clean your mess,
now it's my house too, right.

I need to take care of myself,
I'm starting to feel better.
I am wrong, you come first
I owe you every last breath.

I avoid the mirror.
I will look fat no matter what.
I wonder where I got this from.
thank you for my self-hatred.

see I have finally realized something,
parenting was your job,
not mine.
so why the **** was I doing it?

I do not owe you anything.
you chose to have me,
you chose to raise me.
you failed but I have to pay?

I have come up with two words for your parenting style,
mental abuse.
welcome back, unhappiness.
it's been a while since we have last met.
would you say a year or so?
would you say since I've met him?

you give me these bad thoughts.
the kind that make me not want to want things.
the kind that sees no good ending.
why must you attack me again?

what have I done to deserve this?
Another late night cry.
You consume my thoughts.
Overtake my calm sea.
A rage of emotions arise.

At the lowest part of the night,
when the clock ticks the time away,
a tear drops.
Unwanted feelings surface.

I like quiet.
I don’t like talking about it.
Burdening others with my stupid feelings.
Ones that are untrue but feel so believable.

Silent cries.
I don’t want to wake my mom.
Disturb her peace to find mine.
This will pass hopefully.

I question myself.
Who loves you?
Who wants u?
I think no one.

But I know I am wrong.
I know I am blinded by the late night cries.
Still navigating the seas,
found security.
Been through storm after storm,
Finally finding calm in the endless swirl of chaos.

Giving my all and feeling right,
but end up doing the wrong.
I hurt and get hurt.
Is there a formula?

Five months in, all for the first time.
Love is the most difficult challenge,
But love is also the most simple and easy task.
Like a hot knife going through butter.

Love is intoxicating.
Unsure and always being on your toes.
Compromise and sacrifice.
Love from him makes everything worth it.
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