When my mothers angry - she starts to say illogical things 

Like maybe if I didnt smoke so much weed 

I wouldnt have 6 cavities or 

like the other day 

When she told me " maybe the lesbian is getting to your head "

As if my sexuality makes me who I am 

She made it sound like it was a disease

As if I was terminally ill if I was being me

How do I tell her that I am sick of being me? 

And I just thought that she'd be a little bit more understanding 

Considering the fact that she said she loved me 

And isnt that what love is? 

Accepting one another inspite of your indifferences 

After all I am her child, but just like her mother 

She's grown bitter aswell 

The other day she told me 

that without me she'd have no reason for being

How do I tell her that living has become a strainful activity? 

A constant pressure on my lungs

It's not quite asthama but still asthmatic

It feels like drowning 

But you have no water - to explain how bad it is 

My mother taught me that the climax of love 

Is right when it's about to fuck up 

The peak is filled with soft and gentle touches 

But then you have to deal with the aftermath of all the mayhem 

And everyone claims that they're not masochistic

But still stays in broken relationships 

Hoping maybe one day their fist will spell tenderness

And their words won't feel like bullets and they have a loaded gun to their head 

And if love is continuously going back to something that is unhealthy 

I wonder how many of us are sick