Classic rock makes me sad.
It reminds me of short lived happy times,
Like when my mother used to dance with us to
Poison in the kitchen, and I didn’t realize how
Much she hurt and how she coped with alcohol.
I think of nights where she wouldn’t come home,
And I’d cry because I didn’t want to sleep alone.
How I looked up to her,
only for her to stop hugging and loving me like she should.
How she didn’t protect me from all the hurtful things I was fed by my grandmother.
I think of her drunk on the porch wanting to kill herself, and how I just walked away.
I miss my mother that danced in the kitchen.