Something about my mother. I'm just looking to fix it up because I personally think its sort of sloppy and choppy and blobby and just all around blah. I usually write poems... but non-fiction is also a passion. I'm just not too great at it haha
I love you. Really, mom, I do. I know you know that my smile I paint upon my lips from day to day is faker than Nikki Minaj’s ba-donk*, but you make me happy. I promise you. I pinky promise you. Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye. Who ever came up with those ridiculous children’s rhymes anyway? Just how “Ring around the Rosies” is about the Black Death and people burning and dying and being swallowed by the poisonous infections of the most gruesome plague. Got a bit off topic there, didn’t I?
You know I’m riddled with Attention Defisite Disorder*. Shown by my tremendous inability to even spell ‘defisite’. No, critics, I refuse to check that on my Microsoft word dictionary. Spelling errors add character to people’s writing, don’t you think? So maybe I’m not the brightest when it comes to chemistry, yet somehow I’m in Algebra 2 with Trigonometry, the advanced class. Explain that?
“How can someone have anxiety about homework?” You spat out at me one evening. I know you know I’ve got issues, but what you don’t know, is that you’re pretty messed up too. You see, dearest mother, you know that feeling when you think you’ve failed someone or at something? Or that horrible wrenching in the pit of your stomach, when you just… don’t know the answer? Well for me, I strive for perfection. Why? Simply because that is what you taught me to do.
“Crying is for those who are pathetic and weak, the people who can’t handle the real world.” I do believe, mother, my world became very real when I was young. When you and father were always arguing, but no one ever won. Not til I was about 6 that is, when the problem could no longer be dismissed. A problem that had to be fixed, with one small catch. My father was to be cut out of our family portrait.
I love you. Really, mom, I do. But sometimes it hurts my heart that I have to wonder… do you really love me too?
*Ba-donk means rear end. Ya know, the back side of a lady xD
*if you did not understand what I was talking about, it's actually spelled deficit, you can look it up on google.
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