He told me I was becoming my mother.
A statement that meant,
I could do better.
They said I look just like her.
How the ocean floods my eyes when my heart, 
Catches on fire,
From beating too fast.
Our love always cursed to backfire,
Take us down,
And bury me in unrequited desire.
The blood that kept me alive,
Also made me a drunken liar.
He said I was just like her.
Giving myself away,
In a shattered mess.
Mopping our tears,
With every torn dress.
Taking lovers in a desperate contest,
To see who could numb the pain,
Before going back to the home of the blessed.
And refusing to confess. 
He said she was a whore,
But every night I still saw her kneeling on the floor.
Whispering to an old friend,
Praying for something more.
My father said I was damned to follow her.
Drown in my sin,
And fight for my life on a rotted floor.
He should have seen it coming, 
When I finally walked in her footsteps,
And slammed the door.