letters to layla

LAYLA

unsure:
not feeling, showing, or done with confidence.

that's me. im unsure of my sexuality. maybe because my parents will pretend they're ok with it, but hate me behind my back.

im lucky, i live in a mansion with both my parents, i have a whole closet full of high end clothes and a credit card full of money.

but none of that makes me happy.

i swear to god im not greedy, but it's hard to be happy when your head is spinning, and you lack any form of childhood, and you're addicted to alcohol.

my mother wanted everything to fall in the pieces, for everything to be perfect. but it's not. this is life, not a dollhouse.

i walk downstairs and i see my boyfriend, alex, talking to my father. i rolled my eyes at both of them yelling about sports. i can never get a hug from either, i should break up with him but i just can't.

my boyfriend gets up and wraps his hands around my waist. "am i getting some tonight or no? i don't wanna waste my time here if not." he whispers in my ear. i turn around to face him and i lean close.

"baby, fuck off." i push him and grab a bag of dried apples.

"hey, don't be like that." he comes back and puts my hair behind my ear. "sorry for being so vulgar." he kisses my cheek. i sigh, "you can leave though, you won't be getting anything."

"alright, bye." he spins on his heels and leaves as i expected.

"awh, layla you scared away my sports buddy." my dad says with his eyes still glued on the tv. "i honestly don't care." i say. "what's wrong? go hang out with your friends."

"what are friends? i don't have any of those." i say walking upstairs. i hear my dad scoff.

help. my mind is spinning.
it needs to slow down.
i can't ask for help.
but,
i need help.

                         -LAYLA🍒