She makes me feel inadequate.
  I'll never measure up so **** it.
  Just a mother who hates how I
  make my bed and does it over
  every time and I start to see the
  cracks in her shell and the madness
  that finally brings her to her knees.
  She sees a shrink to put her back how
  she used to be but the puzzle is short
  of pieces and nothing ever seems right.