Drunkeness

And thus my mom is drunk again. She came home and sat on the sofa and started asking me why I do this to her. She said its all my fault. I had to get her a trash can because she was throwing up and I made my little brother and sister go upstairs.  But then she tried to get up and just fell down across the coffee table. I went over to help but before I could she fell over again breaking the sofa. She asked why she was so weak. I wanted to scream at her. Why do you do this? Why? Why? Why? Each time you get drunk I break apart inside. I just shatter and especially when you tell me it's all my fault I just can't handle it. I want to go stay somewhere else right now. I need to. I had to help her upstairs as she knocked over paintings and her pants drooped. At one point she fell back down the stairs. Tumbling until I caught her. Why? Why? I just want to get away from here and cry for hours right now. I can't handle this. I can't. Maybe I should go get a rope. Or pills. Or a gun. I wish. I wish. I wish. But I won't. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. She disgusts me like this.