poetry by a girl who's afraid of herself //

Too dead to care.

Why am I never good enough for you? Why do I never live up to your standards.
I could try so hard for the rest of my life and I'd still be the daughter who you claimed fucked up your life.
Why doesn't it matter what I feel? Why is everything always about you and how you're doing? You say you don't play victim but that's all you do.

It's always "I'm so depressed and sad" but that's how I always feel too.

You think you know me but you don't, last time you really knew me is when I was growing up. You make me so angry, make me want to curl up and die but that doesn't matter to you because I'm just some rebelled teenager who always lies.

Does it make you feel good knowing I'm dying inside? Does it make you feel proud making me cry? I'm sure it does because that's all you do, and I understand why sister left because hell.. I would've too.

You think this is life? Some twisted game? You think playing with my emotions is just a hobby that you entertain? Well here's the thing mom, after im gone and you realize what I've done for you, how much I've sacrificed my happiness to see you not be blue, you'll realize that hmm Jasmyn's problems weren't a joke or to be taken lightly,
Then you'll finally know what it feels like to be dead inside too.