dear parents,
do you really not realize how broken i am? do you not see that your words actually hurt me? do you not know that telling me to 'get over it' doesn't help? do you really not care about me? do you not see me holding back tears every time you say something hateful? dear parents, i am officially broken. i'm crying out. don't you hear? do you not hear me crying? do you not see that pain, marked clearly on my face, in my actions, and on my skin? maybe you should learn to listen and pay attention. because that's all i ask of you.
YOU ARE READING
punctuations.
Poetryshe's got a h e a v y heart, a m e s s y soul, a r e c k l e s s mind, but i think it's b e a u t i f u l the way she carries herself.
