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I used to have a mother. But I was never her daughter.
She prefered to pretend I was never there and instead I went up in smoke.
Just like her life, up in smoke that went too.
She would sit there on the bed everyday and pretend instead she had a maid
And I would choke on the smoke that filled the room
And choke on my tears that I was too afraid to cry
And I would watch her smoke.
Then I would clean up her food
And clean up her clothes
And clean up her vomit
And I would watch her smoke.
I used to have four brothers. They disappeared like smoke.
She smoked so much that she forgot how to take care of  us.
Its not like we were hard to see, (once you got used to the smoky haze)
We lived in a one bedroom pickers cabin.
The two youngest were oblivious. They didn't know what the smoke
meant but the Oldest, he did. He and I both knew. 
And we hoped for someone to save us.
And we didn't cry when she hit us.
And we watched her smoke.
She had a boyfriend, too. And he knew what the smoke 
meant.
And he liked the taste of the smoke.
And he let us get lost in the smoke.
And we watched them smoke.
I had a mother once. I forgot her.
I left her to her smoke
And sometimes I shed a single tear for what could've been,
should have been.
But there she sat, the smoke
surrounding her.
And she let us see her smoke.
Let us get lost in the smoke.
And we watched her smoke.
Now, I realize that I never had a mother.
There once was a woman who was supposed to take care of me
But instead smoked.
And I will always be sitting there in that room,
Choking on tears I'm too afraid to cry
And choking on smoke
I will always remember having to be her maid.
I will always remember cleaning her clothes
And her food 
And her vomit.
And I will always remember watching her smoke.

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