“You know that stuff we sale baby girl? If I don’t get it I’ll get sick.” I looked up in my mother’s big brown eyes and didn’t really know that my mother was a crack feign. It’s hard for me to even say it. My mother’s boyfriend was not only her abuser but he was her pusher! “I remember nights still remember nights damn near went crazy had to get it right, the absolute truth, yeah I’m no joke
Who me, I emerge from the crack smoked.” (Young Jeezy)
I was always with my mom maybe a little too much, but a love between a mother and child is unexplainable. I guess that’s why watching my mother sit in her friend Hope’s bedroom and light her crack pipe didn’t faze me. I sat right next to her as she held the fire to the glass bottom and inhaled. I would have gone and danced with the devil as long as my mother was there. My mother wasn’t perfect but she was mine and didn’t deserve to be abused, she couldn’t leave though the hand that hurt her is the same hand that made her feel better. Your abuser can’t be your healer!