Mother

How I shout at you sometimes
And how I keep you waiting
Hoping you have the time to miss me
Hoping the nothingness in you is large enough
For your despair to validate
This pattern that we're in by hazard
O I'm the brat who knows no cuddle
The wicked whining for a pink prize
And all I want is to make you stay
When all you do is leave with an excuse
Always sooner than expected
Always with a gentle nod
Always neglectful of your own birthdays
The sadness in you, bottled up
Inside the limbo where you'd stick around
Fearing the dark, choosing the cold instead
Making the hide-and-seek a lifelong ride astray
O mother, the scorn and raging hopelessness in me
Are all the hints you need in order to make out
How much I love you...