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....