we were close when i was little

you called me your sugar plum fairy

sat by my bed when my dreams were too scary

I didn't know then that our relationship was so brittle

 

you have mixed feelings about your own mother

maybe that's why you act the way you do

you rip me apart and then try to patch me up with glue

we both know you wouldn't ever do that to my brother

 

you called me an addict because I would bite my nails

while you'd have at least two drinks a night

you'd buy a pack of cigarettes every day, having one at the stoplight

then after dinner you'd sit in the backyard, in the dark, and smoke with the snails

 

called me fat in the women's dress section of the department store

told me to cut down on the ice cream for the summer

to me, it was more than just a bummer

not that it matters but I know when you were my age you weighed more

 

you never taught me the things you should teach your daughter

told me I needed to shave

yet you expected me to learn how via radiowave

instead my blood just mixed with the shower water

 

you cry that your mother is dead

saying she was a bad mom and that you wish you got closure 

yet you stand in the crowd watching me like I'm a tiger in an enclosure

and you don't say anything as I'm about to lose my head