I'm Not Who Everyone Thinks I Am

I wrote a haiku today.
I needed to express myself.

Sadness takes a hold.
It will never go away.
Please, someone save me.

I showed it to my mom.
She patted my head and said good job.

Then she went back to the bottle she was nursing.
I hate it when she drinks.

She's the only one I can rely on in the house.
Except for when she drinks.

Depending on the day, and how much she drinks, she becomes angry, depressed, or deliriously happy.
Sad is my favorite.
Then I can pretend she knows what I'm going through.

I am sad.