I want… I need…

“I’ll give you my car.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

“I’ll get it for you, no matter the cost.”

“What do you want?”

– Mom

“You. I Need You.”

” Your Unconditional Love.”

“That’s what I want.”

“That’s what I need.”

“That’s what I’m craving.”

– Me

 

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Mutual Silence

Mom came over earlier today

and picked me up so we can

have our mother-daughter

chit chat someplace serene.

What usually takes five minutes

felt like a one hour drive.

Breathing in the same heavy air

we were both exhaling inside the

car she decided to use.

Neither of us uttered a word,

and the silence surrounding us

felt like a punch in the gut

as it grew and occupied the rest of

the space between my mother and I.

I looked outside the window

through the passenger’s side,

amused by how fast it suddenly

went dark as the clouds covered

the sun completely.

It looked like it was going to rain…

No perhaps a storm,

which I found ironic.

It was as if the real world was

reflecting both my feelings and emotions

right in front of me.

Not a pretty sight, considering

the fact that the wind was

gushing furiously taking its toll

out on miniature trees next

to the sidewalk.

I wanted to melt the ice

and I was pretty certain that my mother

wanted the same exact thing.

Yet we remained quiet,

barely looking at each other

avoiding eye contact at all cost.

I should be used to this…

 

Making Momma Proud

Mom.

My entire life, it’s always been about making you proud.

Pushing my limits, doing it all for you.

Stayed in school, free from drugs and alcohol

stayed on track, kept my grades high

pursued being the best passing everyone by.

Yet you don’t seem to notice any of it…

None of it seems to matter to you,

I didn’t just see it in your eyes but felt it.

It hurts. It really does.

I’m in college now, Mom.

Did it all on my own, without your help nor support.

It’s kind of sad because to this very day,

I’m still doing my best hoping that someday

you’ll realize I was one hell of a daughter.

The kind that never gave up on her mother,

and did her best out of every thing just to hear the praise:

“I’m Proud of You!”

One of Us

Are you one of us?

A broken home.

Where’s mom? Where’s dad?

People are talking. Spreading rumors,

I’ve heard so many…

Mostly fantasized, the kind where

imagination was involved.

Wanna know what’s the least popular?

The truth.

He’s lying. She’s lying.

How the hell is this shit supposed to make any sense,

if those who were at fault continues to point fingers.

Where’s the justice in that?