It’s easy to blame
the parent that was never there.
It’s easy to remember
waiting at the gas station
with a full back pack for a dad who never came.
It’s easy to see
how a girl seeks a love
where she has to prove her worth
because it was never validated
by the one man who should of.

But it is even harder to forgive herself
for being angry
with the mother who was there,
on a single income,
taking the time to raise
the child that he didn’t.

Even though when it came to her love,
she picked the men
who didn’t even want her daughter
because she was a reminder of the past
without them.

It’s hard to accept that mom
was also that same starved girl
looking for a love that was unconditional,
only to find herself in a room full of conditions,
the ones that said “it is either me or her. ”
Only if she realized
that unconditional love
was staring at her calling her mom.

What is hardest is  
she always chose them.

Sitting at the gas station,
twenty years later,
staring at my packed bag,
I wonder why we keep being told
“they are still human.”
But weren’t they still parents?