She lays there with her puffy hands,
strewing them over her gusto stomach.
She glares at me like I am an imbecile,
like she should not have let me be born.
The sullen in her eyes are saying,
"you are an alcoholic, a waste,
a bitch, a liar, you disgust me."
Her presence lingers like a bad stench
after you have woken up from nightmares.
She leaves me with my gleaming cheeks
burning from all of the tears in hysteria.
Her words impale me, digging immensely
and once again there is invisible wounds.
Her hair looks like brittle pieces of hay,
her cheeks flushed from squalling at me.
Her remarks are nothing but remnants of
the barren conversations from before.
And we will never be at peace together.