My mother likes attention
and she’ll do anything to get it.
My mother likes Xanax;
I've seen her pop it dozens of times.
My mother likes child abusers
because all of her boyfriends fit the definition.
My mother likes booze.
She can down a bottle of wine in twenty minutes.
My mother likes to lie,
She likes to scream at her child.
She likes to make it feel like it’s crap.
She likes to move every time somewhere starts to feel like a home.
She likes to ignite all her bridges and watch them burn
until there’s nothing left but ash.
But that’s okay.
I still love her.
Because she’s my mom.