Plight of the Adult Daughter
What do I give the woman who gave me everything,
but every bit of myself?
What do I say to the woman who gave up so much
so that I could fly when she could not?
What do I do for the woman
whose only happiness is my joy?
Whose only sorrow is my pain?
For the woman attached to me;
of who I am but a part?
What do I have for the woman
whose only meaning in life is my life?
I'm claustrophobic but this love is so intense
I'm afraid that she may feel my feelings
that she may think my thoughts,
that she'll cry my tears,
and I'll be nothing.
Feeding off of each other
we'll spiral together--
I have her crazy in my veins.
Every morning I look for myself in the mirror
but, find her face instead.