Conversations With My Mother

It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t understand me,
when there is a debt I owe her that can never be repaid.

Maybe, I have
grown into the disappointment
I was always meant to be! (this is self pity. This is narcissism.
my mother deserves many things, but this bullshit is not
among them).

Mom, I’m sorry.

-Growing Up

This entry was posted in Mental Health, poetry, Thoughts on Life, Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Conversations With My Mother

  1. Pingback: Valuing intentions can be radically compassionate | Kshyama's Attic

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