She's always been different. Spiritually and mentally and physically. Her lips were a bit plumper, her skin a bit darker, her hair a bit curlier and her ass a bit flatter. Her thoughts were roller coasters that's she wish she could control. They'd go up and down and up and down her smile went up then down then up then down her heart went up...then down...up..down. She didn't know if she was alive or if it was her mind playing with her. Tricks, Illusions, hallucinations. That's what her happiness was. Instead her life was lonely. She sat in her home that didn't feel homely. Her dad in jail her mom a slave to another man. A slave because of love. See she was different but her mom was something special. Her mom kept her sane, her mom kept her human, her mom was the reason she didn't end it all. End it. End it. End it. She only cared about her moms feelings over everything else and she didn't know if that was healthy but she was willing to keep her negative feelings from spilling so her mom heart can be filled. Cause she knew. Even though her mom was gone often she, the girl, her, knew her mom still loved her. Her mom still loved her. Her mom...my mom still loved me. She loved me...she...loved me...right? All those kisses and hugs and the I love yous. Were they real? Or was it a cruel trick, illusion, hallucination? Because she couldn't tell. Her mom was a slave to the man and her plans didn't follow the path of her voice. See her voice said "i love you." Yet every night she went back to her massa. Slavery ended in 1865 yet I guess that rule missed one. She'd do anything for her massa she'd drive drunk and became a fuck up just for him. She'd leave her kids to starve, Miss their performances, and claim it was making them hard and they needed it. So yeah She was different Spiritually, Mentally, and physically and so was her mother.
