You've got a lot to say for the one who walked away.

She knew me beyond my actionsBeyond my shallow attempts at happiness.She knew I had darknessAnd when I undressedAnd showed her what I was made ofShe noddedKnowing I was unrepairableAnd said 'I'll be here for you anyway

It took me a long time to realiseThat mothers are women who carry you And not necessarily in their womb.

I think you feel like, unless you're damagedyou're not deep enough or mysterious enoughor complicated enough to ever be appreciated by another.And that is deeply untrue.

It took me a long time to realise that mothers are women who carry youAnd not necessarily in their womb.

We all knew she needed help.But none of us knew how.And none of us could swallow our pride and just ask her what she needed.I don’t know why.Maybe we were too ashamed we didn’t know how to approach our own mother.So we let the years slip unhappily past us and hoped we would never inherit the misery embedded in her soul.But I did.And I didn’t know how to say it aloud. And I still don’t.

I can’t pinpoint the moment this all happened. The moment we broke. But we did.And it feels like acid in my throat.

It always felt as though there were a shaken beehive living in my chest. I could never rest.

I felt torn Between living and dying Between sleeping and surviving.