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I'm Sorry

I'm so confused as to what you want from me.

You want me to get out more.

And so I do, I try my hardest to.

You want me to leave my room more instead of locking myself away.

And I do, I try my hardest to.

I try my hardest to make you so very proud. To show you the wonderful daughter you're raising.

But then I question it.

I leave my room for you, and I sit on the couch. I sit for hours and hours. Nothing more then a few small talks.

You're too focused on your game that is frustrating you. Both of you are. But I still sit there. To show you I'm okay.

Even if I'm breaking. Even if I'm so lonely, I will still show you I'm okay. You will never see me cry. You may see my rage and my smile, but never my tears.

For my tears show you my weaknesses. They show the weak daughter you raised. And that will bring more disappointment then what me going out and being naughty would.

So I will hide behind my walls with a locked door and continue crying silently. I won't show you my tears or hardships. I won't ever tell you how lonely I am.

I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you would like or the daughter you think I am.