As i reach for the door handle, I realize it's torn off, you must of assumed that I would want out of this tight box. Your hands try to hold me as they once did when I was young, but they have seemed to have lost all of your love. Your delicate hands no longer have the same feeling as they did when they ran across my hair, or rocked me to sleep when I got scared. How are those the very hands that scar me with fears I can not stand to bear? With open hands I reach for you but, you turn away as if your scared.

The pills in the cabinet are now gone the blue cap twisted off bottle is on the floor, as you have filled yourself up with them. I watched you walk and pace at night thinking this abnormal behavoir might wear off with time, that the mom I could talk to about everything would be there for me. I watch how the bathroom sometimes is your bed, as you rest your tired head upon the edge of the tub, your eyes smudged, and body achy. I think memories scare you. My dad was a stranger to my eyes, did it ever occur to you that I might want to know why? I would ask but the answer would be a lie, your bright lips hidden with secrets I don't know. 

Your like a clock I have learned, your precise steps seem to be on time always knowing your next move. Yout dark mind acts as if its someone else, your trapped in a body you can not yet control. But somehow you have brought a welcome matt in your home. A home with a heart that hasnt reached full capacity, tears that run when no one is watching, and hands that try to help you but you turn away afraid this terrible effect would come upon their lives as well.

So locking your door to everyone as been your answer, but why did you leave me trapped in? Why have my questions always been answerd with words such as, "well im busy", and "Im sorry"? I am sorry you never found pure hope, but in this messed up life you put me in I found myself being independent, sharing insight into problems you could never find the answer to.

I want to say I look up to you in everything you do, but that would be a lie and it would be a shame to pass down the same trait, as my lips will never wear your lips in life. And through all these hardships I have learned to leave my door open, welcoming love that has never been given. You have a place in my heart as you were the one to raise me, but the dining room table no longer seats two and the time it took you to shed some light on life you finally passed with grief, swallowing the key along with your hollow bones. Never shedding a tear but saying, "Im sorry".