Mommah
Never got
To see me sober,

She saw me
In pain,
Pretending I was fine.

She knew better.

I wanted her
To feel better about leaving
So I faked strength

And drank myself
Into oblivion.

Maybe, to some,
My ‘rock bottom’
Doesn’t seem so dark.

I have a home, my job, a car.

And, for that,
I truly am
One of the lucky ones.

But I’ve been living
In my own personal hell
For over ten years,
In my mind.

Trapped
And blinded
By guilt and regret.

Stuck in the chasm
Between addiction
And allergy.

Slowly,
Steadily,
Self-destructing.

Barely perceptible
To the naked eye,
Like watching grass grow.

But mommah knew.

I hate
That she left this world
So burdened.

I would give anything
Just to see her,
Talk to her,
One more time.

I just want
To hold her hand.

So, mom,
If you’re out there,

Give me strength.
Help me see this thing through.

Finally,
I want to be better.

This time,
My resolve is real.

Know that,
And rest easy,
Sweet Melissa.

No daughter
Has ever loved her mother
As deep
As I love you.

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