I Never Wanna Know


My mother only loves me when she's drunk or high,
when I brought this up to her she claimed it was a lie.
But I know different, I hear it in her voice.
The hate and disappointment when her lips aren't moist.
I come home high and she plays with my hair,
when on any other sober day she would've grounded me right there.
I know most people see me as lucky, but to me it just feels weird.
Because I'd rather my mother hate me
than "love me" by her seventh beer.

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