My Mom

I

don't

focus. I

hate doing

what  I'm

supposed

to be

doing.

My mother

hates it. If she

had it her way, I

wouldn't breathe until

I'd done what I needed to.

And because I live under

her roof, and only hers,

it's really hard to hide

how I live my life.

It's hard to hide

from her.

and it's

risky

sometimes,

to express the

way I really feel

about a lot of things.

Music.  Movies.  Books.

People.  Places.  My words.

My clothes.  My friends. My feelings.  

My views.  The way she and I

perceive God.  I just feel 

like I can never be me

as long as I'm around 

her.  I feel like I'm

being smothered

by a blanket

that could

attack 

me

at any

given moment

and I would never

have any warning, just

a crap of an aftermath to

deal with, and not 

enough time

to deal 

with 

it.

But

at the same

time, I love her.

She's my mom. She's

there for me when I need 

her to be, and she never lets

me down.  She's such a warm

and kind and amazing human being,

and she supports me in pretty 

much every single thing no

matter what, but one thing

she can't seem to do

is just simply

to

u

n

d

e

r

s

t

a

n

d

.