my mother

 

my mother acts as if i hung the moon

but she can't help but criticize the way that it droops in the sky

she tells me i am just like her in looks 

and stands in the mirror

hating herself

my mother does not mean to hurt me with her backhanded praises

but i can't help but taste the bitterness in her words

"get used to your body, it doesn't seem to be changing" 

words meant to make me realize

but just make me hurt that i am not what she wants me to be

my mother has turned to me for care for many years

i cannot tell her anything without it becoming a joke

i feel i am an object of ridicule 

 

i fear i am becoming my mother

but she can't help but criticize the way that it droops in the sky

she tells me i am just like her in looks 

and stands in the mirror

hating herself

my mother does not mean to hurt me with her backhanded praises

but i can't help but taste the bitterness in her words

"get used to your body, it doesn't seem to be changing" 

words meant to make me realize

but just make me hurt that i am not what she wants me to be

my mother has turned to me for care for many years

i cannot tell her anything without it becoming a joke

i feel i am an object of ridicule 

 

i fear i am becoming my mother

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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