A memory of my Mom Not a good one Shes grabbing her hand A red mark on her face Don't let your anger out on her The one I love so much The one who was there for me without exeption The only thing that makes me calm Is the knowladge That she got away I have these memories of her and me Shes where I come from She should be my home My harbor Sometimes she is Sometimes I know I love her But when she gets angry Angry like that I fall apart No strength to care Not moving Not saying a word Is this what I deserve? But I can't blame her I'm like her So much. So fucking much Because I love having authority even though I can't deal with it I love when people think I'm smarter than they are Because I get physical when I get angry I oppress it until someday my walls just burst and I hit the wall I throw up because I love the taste of acid in my mouth I feel sick when no one stands up for me I don't care when I lose someone important At least I pretend to I hate the smell of frying oil I hate cake with too much icing I hate people without manners I hate when kids cry I hate fast fashion I hate cheap toys I hate Christmas trees I hate receiving presents on my birthday I hate having to talk about my emotions I hate eating too much I hate my body because I feel trapped I am her child. Her blood. Her offspring. She lives in me. She acts on my behalf and makes me feel comfort in pain and loneliness. I know she's just a girl. Who had the same childhood as me She wasn't able to change even though she promised herself But she grew up And life made her into what guided me my whole life So I shall never grow old if my future entails passing on the heritage that lives in my blood- the heritage that forms nights without sleep