Writing out my heart

It bleeds for you.
When I see you spending this money you don't even have on jewelry.
On jewelry you hope to sell in order to make more money.
My heart is drowning knowing that you dig your own grave.
And you just don't give a fuck.
About anyone. Not even your own loved ones. Not even your kids.
What are you doing in this life?
Who is it that you are trying to live it for?
Your illusory self?
Lost in the delusion that money is everything.. thinking, believing, feeling that without it you are nothing?
But you put on this mask and cast your own role as the lady with riches and nothing to show.
Nothing to show for it. Just empty walls. And colourless shoes collecting dust.
And big eyes looking up at you, wondering where are you going Mommy?
When will you come home?