Take your concerns, sweet mother weave them with your hatred, your bitter contempt of youth Take your forced confessions like poison from my Judas tongue while you sigh in eager disappointment at the damage done long before.
I was not made in your image this was not my crime to answer I was the cuckoo in the nest a child of a wayward child, given in hope of more in many ways gaining less
Affection in monetary value a room full of treasures to hide my empty heart loveless and longing for a connection with something other than your stinging palm
My rebellion, taken in personal tones was against my existence, not yours Unwanted, unloveable girl my constant internal monologue screaming above the screamers that made my speakers bleed.
my need for you has not diminished nor will my love for you fade there is no understanding for the misunderstood it seems we remain locked in battle bathed in tears, questioning love your scars deep, my gratitude deeper.
I was fostered out as a baby, my relationship with my parents has always been a difficult one. I always knew I didn't fit there, they never understood why I felt that way. I was quite the nightmare teen! Although I love them both dearly, they have never filled the void I have, perhaps I just haven't let them....