From the moment you gave birth to me I had to trust you.

I had no choice, I needed you to protect me from this world.

To help me navigate the difficult journey, to become a woman.

You never gave me a place to call home. A place that, no matter what happened, I knew could come back to.

You never told me the difference between eyes and hands,

the power of trust or love or respect.

You showed me the hurt, and the wrong and the pain and the lies that my life was built upon,

long before I should have known.

You never gave me belief that I could truly achieve anything, So I gave up.

Because of you I cannot love, or trust, or see the world as beautiful place

because as much as I try it brings me back to you.

And everything I never want to be.

My eyes stopped shinning, my hands got smaller and I stopped singing,

because I was never good enough for you.

I am trying to learn to love and to trust, but it is hard.

You’re my mother and you took a child’s trust and smashed it into bits in a 17 year long mission to destroy something you killed a long time ago.