"Misery is a powerful sensation.
It's funny, can tear people down and lead them to madness.
Which is also a weird feeling, madness.
It strangles you up and won't let go." She said

My mother is convinced that I am crazy, driven to madness, she says.
I don't know how, I say.
Mother, I only do what you have taught me, what you have shown me.
Is it my fault that I don't trust people because of you? I am a cynic and proud.
Others will not be the reason for my downfall.

My misery, you say, is caused from a lack of friends, from being antisocial.
Dear mother, the only misery I own is the one you gave to me over the years.
"Friends" have never had anything to do with this.
I never had any.

Pride will get you nowhere, she says.
On the contrary, mother dearest, my pride has got me everywhere that I have been.
You were no help.

No mother, it's not because I'm not pretty enough, because I don't wear makeup or because I don't do my hair.
The reason that I don't have a boyfriend is because of you.
I have seen one too many of your relationships crash and burn like a meteor to ever trust someone other than me with my organs.

Don't you dare yell at me, mother.
The way I act towards you is because of the shield that I have forged over the years for your snide remarks and evil looks. My attitude is yours.

Sweet mother, I have seen you at your worst and at your best. None of which are really great, but I know how you are and that's all that matters.

Dear mother, I know this seems like it was written to spite you, but it's the only way I could express this.

Mom, I want to thank you for making me this way and for everything you have ever taught me.

I want to say that I love you, mommy.

Today I wanted to feel
my lungs burn
and turn to ashes.
Is it too much to ask
to **** myself?
Slowly, always
so
very
slowly.
Maybe, I know
exactly what I'm asking
for.

Is it so awful
to want to feel my eyes
sting?
The sour smell invigorating
my mind.
I wanted to inhale,
exhale.
Fly, drift,
and float safely on a cloud.
I guess I'd have to come down
to Earth
eventually.

Then I wanted your hands
grazing my shaking thighs.
Quiet kisses on my droopy lids
as you say "You're beautiful,
sweetheart."
We could spend an afternoon
falling on top of each other
and getting tangled up
in a mix of lust.
Then I'll trip and fall,
waking up in
this sick reality.