Dear Mother

Dear Mother,
It’s been about four years,
I’ve cried too many tears
over you, and what you did.

You said you loved me as a kid 
but love shouldn’t feel like breaking glass,
or footsteps that make me hide too fast

You made thunder out of every room,
and I learned to live beneath your gaze
locked behind a small lightning cage

But I’m older now
your voice still taunts, and wants, but not as loud.
Each scar you helped me make, I turned to art,
and stitched myself a brand new heart

You can’t undo what you destroyed,
but you don’t own my pain forever
Dear Mother, your storms have been weathered
and I’m learning to love myself better