Spilled Tea

Mother

Mother,
do you not know
words can burn
like the hottest of fires?
Especially yours,
because I cannot
defend myself.
You do not listen.
You come up with
sharper phrases
to stab with.
Why is it that
you hate when
I am defensive
but you, yourself,
are so defensive?

Mother,
do you not know
the growth of my
insecurities
has been fed
partially by you?
'I guess I won't
say anything,
but don't come
to me when
your friends
disappear'
you would tell me.
You have
considerably
worsened
my trust issues.

Mother,
do you realize how
sick I am of sitting
on this couch crying?
Your words make me
so angry that
my lungs burn
and cave in.
These tears
are like acid
on my cheeks.

Mother,
how can you be
so angry when I tell you
how unintelligent
you make me feel?
Telling me you
think I'm smart
does not account
for the number of times
you've made me
feel consistently
like an imbecile,
without actually
telling me I'm dense.

Mother,
I am too intense?
Maybe you should
take a walk
inside my mind
and understand
why I am an
intense person.
I refuse to alter
something that I believe
to be a decent
aspect of myself.
I believe things
should be taken seriously.
I feel things so strongly
and if my 'intensity'
will make everyone hate me,
then fuck this life.

Mother,
do you know
that by telling me
that my intensity
is why I lose people
is just like saying
the person that I am
is what will make
everyone walk away?
Do not tell me
that I am
'twisting your words.'
Don't dull the truth
to make yourself
feel better.
You've made it hurt
to where there's not
a single human
I could call
where you've
made it feel like
they internally
wouldn't confirm
your statement.

Mother,
your words feed
the creatures that
shred everything
I am to pieces.

But thank you
for your 'help.'