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.