I Hate My Mother

And it’s killing me. I am living her life and her fears and her insecurities. But the scary thing is I am reliving her life and through the eyes of me only 30 years younger.

I remember the day she thought I was her rival; the day she first saw me as competition for her lovers…the day she knew I could potentially be…

I remember the way she looked at me with a terrifying lust, her mind clouded in a drunken haze. The way she looked at me and was tempted…and in that moment I hated her.

She was wrong on so many levels.

I think she tried to love me. I think a part of her did.
But she failed miserably.

She should have kept her cunt closed.


Published by: t.dot

A late-bloomer who definitely came out crooked, dove in, got a little broken, patched herself up again and...voila! Upright ;) Sort of lol.

Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s