My mother's son

The feeling was startling, the way tear drops felt cold against burning hot skin. These were the tears of what felt like an unworthy son who hathed sin. These were the tears in which he sought refuge, the only relief he could hold onto even for a minute
a second
a moment
Where the feeling of something, of anything, could bring more shock than that of a mother's parted lips leaking lucid disaster. These tears more trustworthy than real thoughts becoming a lying voice bringing a disapointed face landing disagreeably into a plain of guilt he knows as his eyes. The pain of his mother's cries in the form of punishment, inside a part of her dies. A part called trust. And a serial killer he was, killing his mother's dreams for him, with a knife made of lies. Little did he know something that seemed so simple would end trust's life. End his mother's sweet lullaby, the only slumber she had gotten since he last strangled trust. Oh how trust cried, screaming loud enough to hear, but not loud enough for him to open up his eyes. He wouldn't try, he wouldn't budge, he couldn't feel his mother's love. He couldn't feel his mother's pain until she screamed until her lungs gave out again and again and again.

Couldn't hold his mother's trust so he choked it
He rolled up his mother's feelings
Licked the blunt and smoked it
Wasn't nothin to him since she claimed he was full of it
Once he got a feel for it
Wasn't nothing real but it
And it was the only thing he could feel and shit
So he figured since he ill and shit
Might as well be a tangible and legitimate
Reason to stop feeling
Still numb every change of season
Couldn't give a fuck who he pleasing
Since a blunt is the only thing in life that wouldn't tease him
The easiest thing he could cop
Since he couldn't cop a diploma
And when her heart stopped
It was the only other thing he was holding