I sit there,
The only smell
The wine on my
Mother's breath while
She complains about her life.

She blames me for all of it;
My dad leaving us,
Guys not being interested,
Not making enough money.

I've tried and tried
But she still won't care
About them…
Or me.

I watch my siblings
All day each day.
I take them out of the
House when she gets
Drunk or high.
I don't ask for anything
In return.

I want her to acknowledge
That she messed me up,
She is an unfit mother,
She is selfish and cares
Only about men and drugs.

I want her to acknowledge
That I am the mother,
Not her.
I tuck the kids in at night.
I help them with homework.
I go to school events.
Where is she?
Sometimes I don't even know.

She’ll come home at midnight,
Stumbling her way about the
House with the smell of wine
On her breath.

He wanted tea. She was coffee.
He wanted butter. She was cheese.
He wanted Facebook. She was Twitter.
He wanted Louboutin. She was Keds.
Your flaws aren’t flaws. You are art.
It may be killing you slowly everyday—but just sleep to forget the world.

Stir up my emotions,
Iron them up out,
Make me believe
That it doesn't matter,
To be undecided,
Whether too small or too big,
Let me fit without a glitch all the same.