sometimes you really remind me of my mom. not that you're as bad as her. but the way that you pick at everything i do. the way that you know how to say the thing that can push me to the edge. when you hit me i got scared. i couldnt say anything because i didn't want you to tell me how dramatic that was or get defensive because you felt attacked. i just covered it up and pretended it didn't happen. when you act like everything i do is such a bother to you, it weighs on me. all of that makes me wish i was dead. but i cant tell you that. so i pretend.
