The word still echo in my head.
"Bitch."
The way you just let that jerk say that to me.
To damned drunk to stop it.
I just wish you understood how this feels.
I want you.
You, and only you.
I wish you could grow up.
Be the adult.
And i would be the kid again.
you're 56 this year,
If I didn't know better, I'd say you were turning 16.
That's how old I'm supposed to be turning. Instead..I think I'm turning 56.
I hope you understand
when I no longer truly care.
You never realise what those..men do to me,
say to me.
Do you want to know?!
Huh!
DO YOU?!
They try to talk to me.
They call me a bitch.
They try to tell me things.
They try to do things.
I'm always left defending myself.
Smacking them away.
And walking away from you.
Want to know WHY this happens?!!
Because!
You ARE DRUNK!!
You won't remember anything by tomorrow.
Thank god I don't live with you.
I''d be even worse then what I am now.
I just wish you could see.
See this pain.
See the tears.
See my damned pain.
I love you.
I dislike you
I love you!
DAMMIT!
You're my mother.!
I'm STUCK!
I just want you.
You.
Not that jerk who uses you.
Just you.
Not that brown bottle either..
JUST YOU!
I'm tired.
Help me.
Help me.
Help me.
"Hi there. if you aren't my mother, hang up the phone, and call back later. if it is you. leave a damned message saying you're okay."
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