Mother’s Daughter

I’ve watched my mother kill herself a little more each day.

I’m not mad at her,

All the time.

Mommy, please get up…

I hear a fifteen year old me say in hushed tears;




Food addict.

Growing up I heard my parents scream and mom would slam the door behind her as she would head to the nearest place she could get a big mac, because fighting with my dad over that big slap across my face, was always so tragic.

My mother and I had much in common, like mothers and daughters do, I’ll just list a few…

1. We both had eating disorders, just opposite ends.

2. We were both born in August.

3. We can both be so blind to destruction if it comforts or shields us away from a problem. Whether at the bottom of a B.K or Bacardi bottle, or for me at a time, a cocaine baggie.

I stopped.

For my poison was killing me faster,

And I thought to myself, my parents don’t want to find my body laid out dead and plastered.

My father would harp on me for my immortal immaturity.

When I got sober I found clarity.

Mom, can you join me?



Deep depression and physical illness is the realist and the coldest killer. I just wish she knew that I wanted to save her.

Monkey see, monkey do,

Mama doesn’t give a fuck of her own life, why should I?

Because a daughter is supposed to look up to her mother, and I once did so brightly,

But so quietly she made her exit,

Mama, why?

I know some of it you couldn’t have helped but isn’t your daughter worth living for?

My floor has been drenched in my tears for all the years I watched this.

Walking out for class, I wish you would just get off your ass.

Your depressed mom? Why didn’t you come to me, just because of all the pain he inflicted on me, doesn’t mean that I wasn’t there.

I just want you to tell me everything, including myself will be okay,

Because these days all I want think about is joining you because my joints ache in heartbreak and there’s no one here to wipe my tears and hush all my fears. This is the hardest thing I have ever been through, past the rapes, drugs and beatings- I just need to hear my mom tell me that I’m her baby girl.

I had a pipe dream that my motivation to get up every day no matter what, would be something that could have helped you out of this rut.

I feel like I’ve been beaten over a hundred times in my gut,

Should I just run, mommy?

I need you to send me a sign because my mind won’t stop looping, and all I think about is watching myself grow wings and come up to you. But I promised you I’d complete all my goals and dreams, but where is my mommy to tell me that shes proud of me?

I didn’t come from you, but I’ll make it clear to every one that I truly did. Maybe not born from your womb, but I grew in your heart, you wanted a baby girl that was as beautiful as art.

I wanted a mom who’d fight to stay because her daughter was worth it.

Please take this feeling of being lost and scared away,

I want to see the sunshine on the next day.


I miss you more every minute of every day, you don’t know how hard this is without you.