There stood mom with her bottles,
what else’s new?
Solely thinking about herself,
no one else.
Our feelings, our fear, crippling inside of us waiting to burst, all irrelevant,
with her bottles.
Waiting to be freed from her, her demons hid,
in her bottles.
It’s where her demons hid

When she was sober,
all was different,
she was Mom, when sober, happy, loving,
Joy filled everyone.
Her eyes wide, filled with hope,
bright as stars.
When she was drunk, ever so often, fear,
lingered within our soles.
Her eyes, the eyes of the devil, harm
always was performed.
Her actions, our misery, our pain, never
failed to occur.
Her breathe reeked worse than booze, but stank
of our pain.
For her, she was fine, we were the ones suffering,
yearning for resurrection.

We would see her sober,
acting as she gave joy,
Instead it was false hope.

We hear her talk,
she says she’s better,
providing hope for us,
but not facing reality.

“I’m different now, fixed.”
But demons can never be refrained.
“I’ll try.” she murmurs, as she swigs
a precious sip from beneath her jacket.
You weren’t fooling anyone,
mom wasn’t mom, but a devil.

When her demons were out, I was better off dead,
all hell breaks loose.
She was like rainclouds that loitered forever,
but never rained.
When the demons were around, I wasn’t, my eyes,
were closed.
Blocking out reality, but only delaying,
inevitableness.

How often have we heard, “I’ll stop, I’ll change.”?
But that’s garbage.
You never loved us.
We all knew you loved the demons more.
You spent more time with them anyway.

You had your priorities, drinking, demons, everything else, us.
I tried to change you, to save you.
It was too late, the demons gained control.
I watched the light fade from your eyes,
the darkness take you over.
You loved them, the demons,
hell,

That’s why I sent her home.