least favorite daughter

I hate the way my mother looks at me.

The look of the “least favorite daughter.” 

Most little girls feared monsters under the bed, while I feared the ones over the bottle.

I have poured out chance after chance, and alcohol is her favorite daughter.

The least favorite daughter only stays because the little girl inside still has hope that maybe one day you could change. 

And still, that little girl loves you more than the bottle.


This poem is about: 
My family


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