Mommy Abuse
When I first saw my motherFor the first time in seven months
I'd said, "You smell like home."
My mother smells like
vodka, stale smoke, too much make up and vinilla fields
But that the only smell of my mother I've known.
She smiled and held me tight
"Lets go home."
But I whispered, "I can't stay the night."
She flinched away and let me go
"Why can't you stay?"
Only the abuse would know.
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