I used to think that when people hurt they only hurt others trying their hardest to hurt only themselves.
That destructive people were like atom bombs, the more tightly they pushed everything down, the bigger the explosion was when someone came near.
I was naive to assume that just because I wanted what was best, everyone wanted that.
I used to think my mother hurt us because she was hurting.
I thought I saw her struggle with trying to be better.
Saw her cry so many times from the pain she was put through.
And I accepted that she was trying, that I would have to live it.
I didn't mean for any of it to happen, but this is the life I was borne into.
I don't understand you.
I don't understand,
And how could I?
Aren't you my mother?
You said you hurt us, because that's the only way dad notices you.
Mom?
You hate us, because you hate yourself, for hating us
You will never do better by us
As everything I thought stable falls away
I hear so many untruths left behind
I'm lonely
Why won't you spend time with me
I try so hard for you
You should be grateful
Oh so everyone hates me, is that how it is?
Mom.
You're lucky for what you have
Mom!
I love you.
I-
I wish only that I had the words for everything I wanted to say. That saying them wouldn't destroy the world but,
I'm sorry that you hated yourself more than you loved me
I'm sorry your insecurities were the heaviest burden you bare
I'm sorry you didn't think there was another way
I can't say any of that
I just
I'm sorry mom
I love you too.
YOU ARE READING
After (2024)
Historia CortaIt's a story about recovering from depression. My journey to stay happy after a long couple years. I write mostly poetry. If you want to read more about my struggles click my profile, I have one published story detailing my 2023 year. It's still har...
