Winter Dreams and Year-Long Hell

When the wind moans outside outside my window
And the cold slips into my home,
I am certain that tonight is the real night of winter.
I gaze the crescent moon, thinking of her- she who gave me life, my mother
I wonder how she spends her days.
Mama, do you remember how we used to play together
When I was a little girl?
There is is no doubt in my mind that you loved me- back then.

As for myself, I have hopes, ambitions and desires that I WANT to accomplish.
I WANT to live in own house with my future wife.
I WANT a career.
I WANT the American Dream.

Mother, I posses no knowledge your aspirations.
But dreams of you and I attempting to
Behave like a loving mother and loving daughter
Are foolhearted and even pointless.
Because you don't claim me as your child anymore.

My stubborness combined with your Unwillingness
Will not mend our relationship.
The bond between us will gradually crumble into nothinginess.
I left you, Mother, beacuse I am a coat.
You can't pick me and put me down
Whenever you feel like it.

I feel I've been abdicated and
For what reason, Mother?
You refuse to swallow your medication.
I know your tablets were forged from
Science, from the minds of mere humans.
Also I know your pills are not magic  nor the cure to your affiction.
Those little tablets is your only tether to Reality, the Realm of Ration Thinking

Mother, the only picture I have of you is as a little girl
Because it pains me too much to percieve you as anadult with responsiblies.
You have always had a chice, Mother.
When I was in your womb, you CHOSE to give me life.
When I was born, you CHOSE to raise me as your child.
In the present and in recent past, you CHOSE to deny your medication tablet,
CHOOSING to be UNWELL.
But I don't think you should had the privelige
Of choosing child-rearing and sickness at the same time.

I have always been baffled that you, Mother,
Prefered madness over a clear mind.
I ponder why, live this way
Are medications symptoms more hellish your private alterate reality
Or it is a wondorous dreamland?
Either way, I must give you credit- you were clear-headed for half of my childhood
Sadly, a half-hearted effort
WIll not mend my broken heart.