struggle

i have followed your nazi trail
 for long enough,
your hybrid of pain and demolition.
do not curse me as i leave you,
dear mother.
didn't you ever see me and just want to say
"enough child.
  come sit with me."
i've waited long enough,
dear critic,
for that secret formaldehyde
that one ingredient
that could
do something..
transform the way i feel
towards you
into something beautiful
but it's my rage
and it's terrifying
and i want to
blame you
for my suffering
you called me back
because you didn't want to
be alone,
there are some things
that are never talked about,
i used to live there,
in those moments,
where the awkward lies
and caves of pain are deep and many
i am persephone,
does that you make demeter?