Mom, mommy, I love you. Please, please, can't you see that? I try, and try, I bake, I clean, I wash, I laugh. I don't cry, because it makes you mad, I never scream because you have high blood pressure. I can't talk in case you find a word in my love offensive . . . please, don't call dad again. I can't take that anymore.
But I will, if it makes you better, happier, healthier, richer, fuller.
And you still say that I'm a monster, one every one is TERRIFIED of. In how many words can I tell you to calm, in how many words can I show you I DO care, but can't speak of it. I LOVE YOU, but I can't tell you or you'll think I'm trying to cover up fro