Like My Mother

My father can’t look at me.
He doesn’t see me,
But he needs me here.
I’m a replacement.

I long to be different,
Not judged for my appearance.
I’m different, not her,
But leaving might not be so dreadful.

How do you release the past
When it faces you everyday in the mirror?
Will I ever be me,
Or just a reflection of her?

If I dye my hair will she fade away?
If I pierce and tattoo myself, will I be someone new?
Is the blood that pools at my feet
Mine or hers?