Hookin' (Part 2)

My mother was classically beautiful. Her looks were the embodiment of a nice girl. Freely smiling in every picture, exposing her perfect teeth and optimism. She had big, bright eyes that sparkled with charm. But underneath…was something completely different. There was an ugliness. A hatred towards herself. It was so loud she escaped to heroin, abusive men, and excessive spending to silence her demons. She endured an overwhelming emptiness, but nothing could possibly fill the void within. She was never able to love herself, and that torment eventually led to her drug related murder. People have mentioned to me that I look so much like my mother. I especially have her eyes. But do I have everything beneath as well? 

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I'M USING MY MOTHER'S DEATH TO REINVENT MY LIFE

A thing or two about me is that, I love anything with tomatoes and…I grew up without a mother. Even though I know you’re really intrigued about my love for tomatoes. (All tomatoes? Like in everything? Tomatoes as a topping on a pizza? But it already has marina which is tomato based. What about ketchup? Do you count that? It’s mainly just sugar). But this piece isn’t about tomatoes. (And yes, I group ketchup in as my love for tomatoes obviously). < Sigh > It’s about the latter. 

 

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