I cannot end up that way.
I berate and belittle myself,
It's all I know, the strongest lesson you bestowed.
I work on myself, inside and out,
Second guessing my everything.
I know I'll never be good enough,
I was taught that, young and tough.
I know nothing will ever be "right",
Understanding the disability my only insight.
The waves of destruction wear me thin,
I manage to break away and miraculously revive again.
This viscous, constant cycle of psychological hell,
The all consuming spiral into intertwining, debilitating swell.
I love you, I'm somehow programmed to,
Sadly, honestly the majority of the time neither I nor anyone else can stand you.
I respect you, for everything you've achieved, everything you've gone through,
You did the best that you could do and for your successes I applaud you.
I am fascinated by your ability to run a business and make money,
Being a single mother isn't easy.
I'm constantly shattered by your inability to see,
The destruction of your cruelty.
I live in constant anxiety,
Because my mother has a bipolar disability.
