My Mother

My mother, the monster beneath my bed and person who kissed my head.

My mother, followed by demons and lived like a heathen.

My mother, lover of drugs and giver of hugs.

My mother, she lived as she died, carelessly.

Leola Kay, I would like to say that on this day you died for nothing. However, you lived in moments. Some of those moments were spectacular, some were pure chose, most were things I have regressed, and some were even full of love. You were as lost as Alice in the rabbit’s hole, fallowing a high that you could never quit catch. As fake as a porcelain doll you had people even believing you gave a shit. You were a great person and amazing mother. Heroin however, was your heroine. She ruled and ruined your existence. Without her you were both the best and worst you. Because you chose to live vicariously through a high state of mind you didn’t relies how much of a low life you were. I wanted so much for a mother and instead was given a full sized child. Ironic, how you raised me to raise you. I was your mother, daughter, friend, and whipping boy. I don’t hate or even despise you. I am just disappointed in you.