It's hard to love a mother
who only sees you as a mistake.
When dreams are more realistic
than words that are rehearsed
in my mind,
Throughout each day.
Photos are framed and looked at,
In ways that shouldn't be looked at and remembered.
To lye dormant on a shelf
collecting dust,
Like some piece of trash.
The words are so persistent,
Like bruises that remain on my skin.
Sometimes I feel so close to you
that I could almost reach out and grab your hand,
But something holds me back.
How I still chase your love
And hold on too the past,
something i shouldn't do.
Just a child wanting to be loved,
But it wasn't love if you let me go.
Cut the umbilical cord,
And separate us both.
Make room for me in your heart
where I can grow,
To get caught on the thorns
but admire the rose.