My mother is a loving woman
A heart too big for her small frame
A smile too wide for her round face
Paired with soft, dark eyes
My mother is addictive
Bodies gather around her to catch any word that spills from her mouth
Her contagious laugh booms around the room
She ignites the light in people's eyes when they're around her
My mother is addicted
Bottles stowed away under the kitchen sink
Pills lining every window sill, covering every inch of every counter in the apartment
Random men's shirts litters the floor, laying forgotten
In the living room
The bathroom
My bedroom
My mother doesn't know when to stop
Lies tumbling from her lips
Like the moon lit tide
Crashing itself unto shores upon shores, a constant
She flicks promises in the air with the cigarette ash that hits the floor
Unknown substances are being passed around in a group of strangers
They speak to me as if I was one of them
As if I wasn't just a child
My mother forced me to grow up too soon
Holding her hair back at the age of six
Cleaning her up, feeding her, screaming at her when she comes home
When she stumbles through the door in rags and heels
I carried her through breakups and pregnancy scares
The roles were reversed in my household
I swallowed her apologies
Like the tiny white tablets I swallow today
See, addiction is often hereditary
I have my mother's wide smile
Big heart and small frame
And her soft, dark eyes
For my mother is a loving woman
Even when she seems
Like she was anything but.
