Maybe I don't want to be fixed

To blame

I grew up
surrounded by the smell of bleach
Cleaning fluid
The sounds of machines beeping
And nurses flying from room to room

I watched
From the provided chair
As my mother was attached to several tubes
Running along her arm

I feared
The moment they would tell me
She was no longer
The long phone calls from the doctors
Explaining what had happened

I resented
Her for the days she was stuck in a bed
While I wanted her at my school programs
At the holidays she missed

I grew up
I watched
I feared
I resented

How selfish it was of me
Not to understand the sickness
To blame her as if it was her fault

And now

I grew up
I watched
I feared
I resented

I ended up
the same way
My own hospital bed etched with my name
Karma