My mother never told me stories
So most of the time,I spent my time living in my head
Creating stories of my own
And in one of them, I could always run upto her and cry when I wanted
I imagined her love and held myself through the nights
I told myself that my mother could only love me because I loved her too
But it never occurred to me if my mother really loved me
No kid ever thinks their mother doesn't love them
We open our eyes one day and make up our minds that the womb we've left isn't the same womb that threw us out
We eat the food on our plates because she makes it for us, we never really wonder if she feeds us out of duty or love
We hold her accountable of the love we deserve,like her duty ,like her job,like her oath ,like her promise
And she'll hit us and we'll curse her
But she's cursed to have birthed us,nobody asked her if she wanted children
She hated her life and she told me how I ruined it ,she kept telling me so I could remember
Memorize that I've damned her soul and body and her youth
She'll still cut fruits for me
And remember how I like my favourite dish
She'll know me inside out as a matter of fact
But she'll never understand me.