There’s a side of me that reminisces about my childhood.
There was good and bad, there always is of course.
But the strongest side is the part of me that morns my youth.
I shouldn’t have been left with this hurt.
These scars.
That mother.
There’s a thin line between love and hate.
And when you were brought up not knowing how your own mother felt about you..
It leaves you asking the little questions.
Of how could anyone love me..
If the one person who wanted to bring into this world more than anything, met me and decided I wasn’t worth loving..
~
who would.
#I don’t have a title for this poem but here it is- pls be kind it’s still a rough draft
strange marlin
lunar lava
good ending, good poem.