After Death

Dear Mom

Dear Mom-

I'm not the angel you think I am, standing on top of the goddamn Christmas tree with a fucking halo.

I'm not that toddler playing at the beach, chasing the waves and hoping that maybe one day, I will be a mermaid.

I'm more like that slut in the back of a pickup truck giving blowjobs and all else there is to offer.

Please understand that I do not need your help picking up after myself or doing laundry or making food because I am an adult and I can do it myself.

I don't want your help or your hand when crossing the street, and I sure as hell don't need your I-told-you-so when I am beat and I think that if you just let me BE, I will learn to live on my own.

I'm not your little princess and I am not your little girl.

I am mature and independent, not your ballerina with her twirls and her glitter and her fucking pink slippers.

I am a woman. Let me grow up.

I'm not sorry that he saw me in my underwear because I am not a child and this is not child porn and he's already seen much more of my body than you'd like him to see but this body is MINE and that choice is MINE and you do not own my body or my mind.

You'd faint if you knew that he's seen me naked, but that was a choice that I had made and no one else did because this is MY life and I accept the consequences for my actions, not YOU.

What I AM sorry for is that you cannot let me grow up, that you cannot stop playing dollhouse with Mommy and child and that damn white picket fence that surrounds the world of those two.

I'm sorry that babies don't stay babies, but I won't live with you forever and when you're gone, I'm sure you'd hope like hell I was living my life for ME and not YOU.

I don't apologize for growing up.

I don't apologize for losing my innocence and gaining experience and knowledge.

Dear Mom.... You need to let me go.