I wonder if you cried when I wrote "I hate mom" on that piece of notebook paper, when you made me mad for that thing I don't remember.

I wonder if you cried when I told you I didn't want you to come to my birthday party, because big girls didn't need their moms to watch over them.

I wonder if you cried when I yelled at you for trying to keep me away from the girls that used swear words, because you could trust me to know better at my wise age of thirteen.

I wonder if you cried when I replaced the "Mommy-Daughter" days with "Shut the door on your way out" days.

I wonder if you cried when I told you I would never come back when I finally moved out.
I wonder if you cried when I told you that I've smoked  ***.

I wonder if you cried when I hugged you for the first time in over 3 years, without being forced.

I wonder if you cried when I told you I needed you, even if I didn't always act like it.

I wonder if you cried when I told you that you were the person I loved most in the world.

I wonder if you've cried, mom, because I've only ever seen you smile.