She stands there like a queen-
Her wealth shining around her neck and wrist
She owns me.
Her fingers yellow from cigarettes
And her lips stained from the wine.
Her eyes hang low and her hair a mess.
Bloodshot tears run down her face.
Music in blast through her ears and thoughts begin to race.
She's lost in the haze-
Life. Loss.
She speaks to empty space-
She feels as though she is left with nothing.
-Deprived as she sits in her fame and fortune.
Luxuries come like water; she doesn't seem to notice.
Her screams show within in her eyes.
She doesn't care for me-
For anyone.
She trips up the stairs and busts her lip.
Self pity - she downs the bottle.
She is my mother.
