By letter

The day I was born

You were deemed

A mother.

When I learned

My first words

You were named

Mommy

Through fits of never ending laughter

When i turned 10

I was double digits

A big kid now.

I decided it would be more appropiate 

So now

You were named

Mom. 

But I got older

And even that

Was sifted

Through clenched teeth

and every memory

As mother,

Mommy,

Mom

Was ripped out of my throat

With fists

As bruised and rugged as mine

I felt every letter

Being torn out

As is was dragged out of my throat

And across my tongue

Leaving a burning trail

Of mistook memories

And even saying your name

Pulls a wretching out

And I feel

My flesh ripping 

So when you hear

Mother   

Mommy   

Mom   

You can know its not

Coming from me.