Dear Mom

I hate you.
I hope you die
and burn in hell.

Please, tell me how I'm crazy one more time.
Come up with another clever excuse to why
you smoked and drank while you were pregnant with me.

Scream at me when I cry.
Tell my I'm worthless again and hand me dad's gun.
I'm fucking done with you and with myself, too.

Enough is enough.
Since you couldn't kill me before I could take my first breath,
let me finish the job and do it myself.