Behind closed doors

I was a child.

I was 7 and taking care of my little sisters. I was a fucking child and you forced me to grow up. The childhood I waned, gone. And your fucking friends remember when I was 7 and they started I was 7. What they did deserve jail. And you stood there watching. You watched them do it to me. 40 year old men. I WAS 7. And the things they said. You heard it but did you do something about it? No. Cuz you never cared about me.

The day I turned 7 and was super happy and you hade to ruin it."it's just ur birthday not that big of a deal". That's why I hate my birthday. YOUR FUCKING WORDS HAS STUCK WITH ME FOR YEARS. Did you ever a apologize? No. Not even a little "I'm sorry". Cuz that would ruin ur pried. Wanna know something you were my dad. You shouldn't have done these things to me. You made me think that was that only way someone would love me.

You always pretend to be perfect and if someone asked it was always my mums fault. But why? Cuz she divorced you? Cuz she loved you? Cuz she was there for you? Fucking grow up.

I still remember the first time I cut myself. I was around 7-8 years old and hade just hade a fight with my dad. A bad one. You know those fights that made you wanna disappear. That made you wanna kill yourself. I hade sharp scissors in my room. The first time I did it I didn't do it deep. I just did a bit on my arm. I didn't go with anything that showed my arms that year.