I was created with intent.
You raised me carefully
Like a hot house flower
Sheltered from the outside world,
Yet trapped inside
A little storm
I was a child.
Difficult. Innocent.
I did not understand
Why I should be more like you
When to be anyone but myself
Severed me
I lashed out
Again and again,
Silently begging you,
Imploring you to see
That every mistake I made
Was an attempt to improve,
Though you did not approve.
Now I am a mother
& my own children suffer
When I cannot control
The anger, sadness, fear, guilt,
The pain I feel
At never being enough for you
For them, for myself,
Or for anyone at all.