I can't.
Its complicated.

She knows too much already,
She's watched every error,
Every fall.

My victories pale in comparison,
To the ever growing list of failures
She has lived through.

I am afraid to give her this.
This flesh of mine,
This soft underbelly I've kept hidden.

What if she's proud of me?
What if she's not?

What if she just sighs
And my whole world shatters?
What if she laughs and I am
Reduced to nothingness?
Worst of all, what if she doesn't care?

What if the softest parts of me don't matter?
What if she just pushes it aside,
And I am ten again
Wondering how hard I'll have to work
To be worthy of someone so glorious?

I am covered in scars from her dissatisfaction,
This is all thats left unmarked.
So I cant show this to my mother.
I just cant.