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May 2018
M.

O.

M.

Three insignificant letters come together to form the benefactor of life
Except the woman who presented me life
the woman who was meant to put me above all else in this world
The woman who's job description was to keep me safe, healthy, and happy for 18 years
Gave up in 12 and declared me a burden instead of a child
When kids ditched school in fear of bullies lurking for their prey
I fled to the bus stop 10 minutes early as my bully stood at my front door
Waiting to pounce on me with her newest criticism
Trapping me within the 4 walls where Im expected to be safe
your home is your sanctuary
Protection from the everyday injustices that lie outside your fortress of familiarity
But 4 walls can hide the cruel truth
That my home became my penitentiary
I, the sole prisoner
Locked in with my ruthless warden
And sure I was given hot meals and a bed
But what good are hot meals when you're told if you eat you'll be round as the plate they’ve been served on?
What good is a bed when sleep is unattainable
Because your mind is circling through the endless verbal torture you've been handed to by the one who should love you unconditionally
And your eyes refuse to shut because you crave to delay the hopeless inevitability of a new day of torment?
And how are you expected to find worth in yourself
When you have been buried in the landfill of your creator’s unjust cruelty
and she can no longer tell the difference between trash and child?
Not every mother is loving...
Chelsea Lyons
Written by
Chelsea Lyons  24/F/Buffalo,NY
(24/F/Buffalo,NY)   
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