You gave me your strength,
you gave me your will,
you gave me your eyes to see.
You gave me your flesh,
you gave me your blood you gave me my family.
You gave me the dream to fly on my own
with nothing surrounding me.
You gave me the lie, the safety of home
and a cold fear that grounded me.
How many dreams have died by your hand
for not understanding me?
How many tears were cried, all undammed,
in your struggles to handle me?
Mother, me.
I’ve been your girl now,
how many years and years have gone by?
How could we waste them all,
how could I know we’d have no time?
Deep in my life,
the path that I chose despite all you planned for me,
still even now the emptiness grows and anger takes hold of me.
How could you sit, and how could you judge,
deciding what’s best for me?
How could you think you’d help me
because you kept all your pain hidden from me?
Mother, me.
What a hard lesson learned,
how many tears and tears have I cried?
But you never heard me then.
Can you hear me, hear me now,
crying out, mother me.