Dear mom,

Can you see me this time through your clouds of billowing smoke?

The last time I was in this place you could not see me

Could not feel my beating heart

Could not hear me

Drowned out by the sounds of your manipulation

I am drowning

Expectations of me were low but somehow you expected everything from me

You took my water when I was stranded and dying of thirst

Raised and lowered hands around my throat

An anchor in the sea that leaves me breathless

Fingers wound tightly in my caramel brown hair

like seaweed as green as my crying eyes

Crashing waves don’t sound beautiful to me anymore

Everytime I hear the water touch the rocks

All I can focus on is the small scar on my scalp

From when you crashed me a little too hard on the white paint of the dingy walls

Interestingly it feels like the horizon line

How beautiful it must be until it gets dark and all you are is swallowed up by emptiness

Mom, I know you cannot see me because

Your shipwrecked mind is forcing me under the waves of your fear

Grandma always told me you named me after the sea because you loved it so much

Now I know it’s because you were lost in one

Mom, I forgive you for using me as a dock to hold yourself together

I was probably too good at hiding my erosive and broken boards anyway

My barnacle encrusted smile  

Showed appreciation for your decision to even think about tying yourself up with me

Believe me

It was a funny feeling when the water turned rough and you sailed off altogether to somewhere warmer that behaved less like my father

I’m sorry my soul began to rain and the storm picked up that day

You were finally gone but

You were really gone

I breathed a sigh of relief and began to cry

I just wanted to tell you

My posts are still standing despite the storm

I taught myself to brace the winds instead of crumbling beneath them

When you left there was no rope to hold me back anymore

And I forgive you but thank you for leaving