My Mother and Me

I can not help but love my mother angrily.

Maybe it is the fear that one day I will grow up

And be like her

Or maybe it's the fear that one day I will grow up

And won't.

It's a weird thing when

I have never felt as safe as much as I do when I'm in my mother's arms

But I still find an unanswered, unexplainable, unjustifiable anger in me

That continuously pushes her away

And still

She is always there to wipe away

The tears that she has caused.

And yet she will says that

It's okay if I'm angry

Because to be angry is to still care

And I believe that all she ever wanted out of me

Was to care.

Even though I don't believe in God

I still ask Him to make sure that she is okay.