So, you lied
your love was conditional
as conditional as a bad day
a bad day turned to mental illness
to sickness
I lay sick in bed, hoping for a fresh breath
While you breathe into tubes of water
while I vomit & take care of a smiling baby girl
& you smile at other girls
I'm done
YOU ARE READING
Mother's Dont Cry
PoetryA collection of my poetry, thoughts, feelings, etc. read at your own risk.