Mother

When they ask me what my mom was like during my childhood I close my eyes and try to imagine something normal to respond But all I can see is a very small version of me Reading books to myself & putting myself to sleep. I ache for something I've never had. Some sense of belonging or open arms I wrap my own arms around myself and though I don't sleep well, I know I'll always have myself. I grew up hating the way I was and still do sometimes I blame me instead of you Wishing that you were still with me but your so happy without me Brooke Daniel