god i hate my mother
and it's the kinda of spiteful hate
because i love her so much
and i hate that i love her
i hate that i need her
and i hate that without her i wouldn't be here
not because without her i wouldn't have been born
but because without her i would have no one
i couldn't leave behind
i hate that she's the reason i'm still here
and i am grateful that she was there
so that i couldn't leave
but oh god do i wish it was anyone other than her
i guess beggars can't be choosers
but there is a chance that one day
my mother will no longer be here
and will have a choice to make
YOU ARE READING
We All Grow Up
Poetryi started this collection of thoughts and feelings before i had really grown up. legally i'm supposed to be grown up now, but i'm still writing. i think it's going to be a long time before this collection feels complete, and i feel grown up.
