I failed my mother – she failed me first.
All through childhood I held your hand as you wept –
You sighed and cried and denied a mothers love.

I was twelve when I sliced my first cut –
I weaved artistic patters all over my arm,
Each hack felt like a distorted piece of sympathy.

You have been cured for many years –
The disease was just passed, unquestioned to me.
You have never asked, or even glanced twice.

Last night I saw you crying –
Your friends’ daughter had cut – it was a tragic devastation.
Everyone was making plans, dinners, lunches, supportive hugs.
You went to help – to empathise like her mother never could.

I have never punished myself for attention,
It’s a sad and sick release from my insanity – for me.
You birthed me and gave me life, fed and clothed my pathetic body.

I know there is so much that I can never repay –
I know I failed to make you happy when I was young –
But why do you give this girl a mother’s love??
When all I have are forced hugs -