happy mother’s day,
I know you’re spending it alone,
I know you’re spending it with empty pockets,
but with a hit or two.
or maybe you’re finding yourself in someone else’s bed
to fill the void of my father
who couldn’t stand that you loved blow
more than you ever loved him or me.
perhaps you regret it all
but not enough to stop,
not enough to make sure your little girl
would have a healthy heart, healthy blood or a healthy brain.
not enough to make sure I wouldn’t come out like you,
kicking and scratching,
a small body, tiny hands,
no words present to express the amount of pain I was in.
heavy doses of morphine,
and my mommy couldn’t hold me,
they deemed my mommy unsafe to hold me,
for that she never grew to know me
and she never grew to love me.
so happy mother’s day to the hole in my heart,
to the void that will never be filled.
to the day I despise the most,
like I’m sure you would.
to the reason why I’m emptying myself into other people,
searching for the love my mother couldn’t give me,
for always coming up empty handed
for the unhealthy habits
and every birthday missed.
mother, this one is for you.