What once was a hug, warm and gentle 

is now a shove, isolated and cold.

I wish I understood what I did wrong.

Was it perhaps that I was born a girl and not the strong, optimistic boy you had envisioned? 

Was is that I kept my nose in books and not staring into the television screen? 

Was is that I favored looking at the clouds over watching you fight with my father?

You've pulled me so many different directions 

I feel like a road with a million dead ends 

you've stretched me so far out and cut me off so short. 

I keep your secrets 

but mine mean nothing to you. 

Every word I tell you is like a light hitting a mirror. 

It bounces off you and you shine it on someone else 

so now. Everyone knows. 

Im not a princess, I've known this for so long. 

I come from no line of royalty. But I am no Cinderella. 

I am not dark, nor do my ancestors come from an African American ethnicity. I am not your Slave. 

You ask for help, and I help. You ask for money, and I lend you it. You ask for a hug, and I fear it. I fear your backstabbing. I fear your touch. 

Mother who bore me, mother who tore me apart limb by limb oh how clever you are. 

You stich me up and let me heal for a moment, and then rip open my wounds and let me bleed. 

You ask me questions, but it's not a question. It's a statement where you don't say it, you scream it. Mother, don't you understand? Don't you remember? 

Have you blocked out your whole life? 

Mother you are not a mother. 

You are a warden in this prison we call a home. And I am nothing but a prisoner behind closed doors. 

Mother your lips who I wish kisses would bloom only spew ivy that spreads and crawls smothering me and choking me down. 

Mother your touch that I wish to be warm and gentle brings me goosebumps at your cold and irritated touch. 

Mother who raised me not to take anything from a bully, has become a bully herself. 

Mother who raised me to be smart only tells me constantly how stupid I've become. 

Mother who raised me to keep my head up loves to bash it down. 

Mother these lashes over my heart will soon bleed and flood me from the inside out. 

Soon I'll be drowning if I don't start swimming. 

Mother be ready for me. 

Be ready for a new caption of the ship as I am waiting for a new tidal wave. 

Smooth sailing never made a successful sailor.