I just love how you ended this piece, with repetition.

mother is getting old,
father wasn't my first love
and I need more than
a pair of hands to count
all the things I've lost

^ I think this is my favorite stanza! I truly like how you said: my father wasn't my first love.. as if you are saying you never saw him? whatever you intended makes this so original.

And again: I need more than a pair of hands.. I like how you just didn't say: countless things lost.

The vibes from this piece are uniquely depressing. I like everything about it.
amazing job