Thank you so kindly for constantly reminding me,

That I owe my life, my breath, my everyday,

To you-- even though I never asked to be.

Suggesting that I should always do what you say,

Even when it goes against what I want,

Even when my gut says naught.

This blood that runs within my veins is borrowed,

Suggesting my life, I owe, my actions,

Are always the cause of your sorrow.

Excuse me if my reflex is to create traction.

Useless it is to state my position,

That I am my own person and not a carbon copy.

You criticize me of my beliefs and claim it's superstition,

Honestly, your involvement in my life was pretty sloppy.

Late nights, spent alone playing house,

Causing anger to stir within me like a wild chaus.

It was a thankless job to play secondary mother,

Especially when I desired to be the only child.

Your love and support always made me suffocate and feel smothered,

Yet you still wonder why my attitude was crass and wild.

To honor you, I wrote you this Ode,

That way, you would understand exactly how I feel.

My love might feel distant and even cold,

However-- this was the only way I knew how to heal.

While I wish I could feel something more than amiss,

Growing up in your home was never bliss.

The absence you feel from my affection,

Is the same I felt all those years waiting for my life to start.

Thank you for showing me how I would like to go in a different direction.

To feel something more profound than you offered me, with all of my heart.