Quick Poem <3

It's a common thing for mother's to say,

"I ain't your little friend."

Yet my mother and I are different.

She tells me I'm her only friend,

speaks to me about things a child shouldn't know

I grew up to be an adult by the age of seven, or earlier

so that my mother could be taken care of.

I never realized why this was such a bad thing

My mother being my best friend? 

That's everything I could've asked for.

But as my age slowly grows

and my brain develops

I realize that it is a bad thing. 

I sit in my room, wishing to be taken care of.

I ask myself, "Mommy, where are you?"

But I know she's long gone. 

She wasn't even there to begin with.