You have always been
my second mother
Like the second coming
of Christ.
Always with a burning
passion, controlling what I do.
I had not realized what you
truly were to me-
Until quite recently

It was not the admirer I had
looked up to for 20 something years.
You were my greatest downfall I
had ever stumbled upon.

With those baby blues and
perfect blonde hair-
You were everything they wanted
and I was the one to spare.

In passing, I realized I was not
the child you foresaw me to be
Yet, the undying rebel lived so
graciously inside of me.

You grew stricter with age
and embellished the love
you gave away.

I had not noticed your prudent
ways until I saw you calm-
Cold and ungrateful for what I
had become.

You never wanted me.
I was always a living fantasy

A child you conjured up
in your head.
I hadn't peaked your breed
of the living dead.

It was never enough for you-
Always put off by who I
aspired to be.

It's okay- I've been found
guilty of everything you
never wanted me to be.

You don't have to like one another
to love one another.

And I don't love you like
the womb that bore me into this
world.

I am just as good as you, yet you're
the symbolic definition of perfection.

I'll never live up to your unrealistic
expectations.
I was a fool to think you'd ever want
me for who I'm truly to be.
In my dying days-
You are not welcome

You'd promise so much
and leave me with
such an unloving welcome.
© 2014 Christina Jackson