see,
it never really mattered how much you hurt me—
i just wished you would be sorry.
because it was you,
that made me realize i have a house but not a home,
crawling into a bed and covers that do not warm me.
you who made the name "mother",
sound so bitter as it rolled off my tongue,
each syllable putting out any remaining light inside of me.
it was never anyone but you,
that turned nurturing into a repulsive concept—
or in my case, a reality.
...
"mommy, i scraped my knee! mommy, do you love me?"
YOU ARE READING
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 || 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲
PoetryHEARTSTRINGS; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. poetry that will tug at your heartstrings (if you are alive).
