I can always feel the impossible expectations
rolling off her skin like a bitter perfume.
She has yet to realize,
I am not the perfect little girl she hoped to raise.
She makes me act as the play dough in her hands,
as she molds the life she yearned for.
A puppet I stand as she pulls the strings
yelling "you have no idea what I've done for you!"
but I do.
She blinded me from reality and took me away
when i was too young to understand.
When Dad was "daddy" and Mom was "mommy"
When everyone was a friend and dollies were pretty.
She stole me away from all of that,
and brought me to a place it's so cold
it burns.
It's a place the sun likes to hide from.
Sometimes I wonder if she would expect so much
if it had all been the same.
If we were a family instead of
tear drops in the ocean.
And sometimes I see the shadow lift off her,
as she realizes I am anything but perfect.
But then she crawls back under that shadow,
my shadow.
For she has put me on a pedestal so high,
I know falling off would **** me.