Singing My Lovely Songs.

I woke up to happy thoughts and I was ready to start the day with my mother. We went to the flea market and I tried my best to stay out of her way as she went grocery shopping with her friend. It was rather boring, so I listened to my music and of course, she could find fault in that as well. As I was following her friend, she called out, and for once, not loudly. I didn't hear. She therefore took it as though I was ignoring her and went off on her own, tugging the full cart of groceries with her. I ran up to help her, but of course, my mother is stubborn and tugged it away from me, saying she could pull it herself. Lately she's been on my case. I mean, I really wonder when I'm going to be able to visit her, sit down and have a pleasant conversation where we don't end up at each other's throats. I wonder when I'll be good enough for her. She makes me believe that I'll never be good enough. For anything, for anyone. I'll always be too slow, too quiet, too nice, too trusting, too everything. I can't cook, I can't clean, I can't be assertive. But, I'm doing the best I could. Once day, I hope, she'll look at me and be proud. Sure, I'm not good enough now, but maybe one day in the future, she'll see that I turned out alright. Her insults drive me to do better though they hurt. But what can I do but sit there and keep my mouth shut. One wrong word can spark a feud. One small gesture can make the lecturing and yelling drag on into the night where I certainly, with shaking fingers and held back tears, would not find solace in sleep as I would be filled with rage and sadness. But she's still my mother. After we were done with the flea market, she made me a smoothie to show that she cared. I took it as a sign of truce. Then we went to eat and when we got home at one, I fell into a spell and didn't wake until six something. I feel rather pleasant now, as I had a rather good dream. Not really a unique dream as I just replayed my past. Only it was different in a bit, in a way I can't really put my finger on. I guess that now, as I have kept my promise and not touched ice cream in three days, I can finally reward myself and eat some mochi.

Ice cream, I love thee so
Even more in summer, as you are cold.
Twice when I am sad over something, someone
You always put my depression on the run.
I'm sure one day I'll get diabetes.
But these days, you mean a lot to me~

(I don't really want to get diabetes in the future. But I thought a poem for ice cream sounds good right now.)