Porcelain
My dearest Mother: I'm leaving you now,
You never loved me, you never knew how.
You've never seen what you needed to see:
That I'll never be who you want me to be.
I'll never sit on the shelf on the wall
As your perfect little porcelain doll.
And so I leave you one last note.
Just a little something these hands wrote.
So keep your perfect little princess
In your mind, every recess,
But remember me - a ghost, a whisper,
Your little girl who wasn't, who was always a drifter.
The one who was a crow being raised by a dove.
Who cracked under the pressure of your nurture and love.