i don't know if my mom doesn't know how to be a mother
or maybe doesn't know how to mother me

because she was the first
to tell me i needed to change
instead of telling me to be who i am

i wish she looked at my poetry
and saw how much people enjoyed it
what it brought out in others
whether it be pain
or a laugh

the fact that i can make people feel
with words

but instead it's a sad call for help
a mentally unstable act

i've had countless tell me they were beautiful
that I
was beautiful

and to this day
my mother only says it
when she's drunk or crying

and i still don't believe it