My Thoughts Exactly. [I lost count]

At 4 you taught me that though she made me from her own sweat and skin she did not make a suitable mother. 300 pounds of woman; she could have been beautiful, instead she was spiteful. And I was the one source of pain creating a 17 year emotional battle between bone and blood. You taught me that "family" did not equal "love".

At 9 you taught me that rough hands did not mean 'tough love' and that crooked smiles and heavy breathing would run their course through my body for the next 3 years. My bruised ribs were caked with grease and refridgerated playdough and you taught me how not to cry.

At 10 you taught me how to lie and act older... a kiss for some truth, but, well, I was never one to kiss and tell.

I was 11 when you taught me about my body- 13 when you taught me more about the emotional battle I'd created. Two miscarriages, four new men, and something along the lines of 'Like mother, like daughter'.

I was 14 when I learned that though she was my kid sister you controlled her the way you did me. I couldnt protect her from the things I saw and felt. You taught we that we all have to learn our own lessons.

I was 16 when you taught me where to put my hands when a boy kissed me... 17 when you taught me how to move when a girl touched me. I was young and resentful; stealing more than lace panties from my favorite store. You taught me to be humble and you gave me some nerve.

Now I'm 18 and you've taught me that people still hurt other poeple becaue they can and that sex doesnt compare to the way commitment can feel. You taught me that some men have good hearts and gentle hands...

And then, you taught me how to love back.