My mom always calls

Something relating to me

A waste

I’m a waste of money

My stories are a waste of oxygen

I’m a waste of space

It’s poison

To me

These words

I’m a waste of money

Because you bought bigger portions of food

You _knew_ I couldn’t eat

My stories are a waste of oxygen

Because you hate when I love and think of

You think it’s stupid

I’m a waste of space

Because instead of doing things for you

I’m cleaning the whole house by myself

You drained me of my joy

With these words

You speak so soundly

After you say these things

I imagine the sky

With its blue brilliance

It’s calming, it’s relaxing

It’s always there, never gone

And escape from your words of poison