I love my mom. 
My sober mom. 
The other mom that slurs her words, I don’t know her. 
I don’t want to know her. 
 
I avoid all contact with her like she’s an enemy. 
The vodka takes control over her, and she’s not the same woman I knew her as, 
when she was sober. 
I pray to get over the feeling of hatred I have for her when she’s like this, 
but for some strange reason it’s all happening...