A longing to be loved

Mom is beautiful.
And dad is strong.
I know that’s where I get it from.

But, I don’t want to be them.
Wearing scars on my wrist like break crumbs.
They never even noticed them.

Refused to acknowledge that I was broken.
Always happy is what they’re hoping for.
But people are made for more.

I don’t wanna loose them.
But they don’t want me when I’m numb.
They don’t love the person that I’ve become.

They’re apart of me, whether they like it or not.
Who I am was developed by what I was taught.

They expect the pain to dissipate.
They don’t have patience and they don’t want to wait,
around for things to get better.

Meanwhile I was writing a suicide letter.

Weighed down by they’re disappointment.
Feeling like I’m just not worth it.
I shouldn’t have to prove it.

They should just love me as much when I’m broken,
as they do when I’m fine.
I’ll always be apart of them,
but I fear they’re no longer mine.

They’re alive and well.
And it feels like hell,
 that they’re not in my life.

Anymore.
—————————————————————————————————————————

I want to move on and let things go.
But they’re never around when I’m feeing low.

Ive got their blood running through my veins.
Yet some how I’m the only one to blame,
for all of my scars and all of my pain.
And then they wonder why I’m so ashamed.

This is why.
They avoid me when I cry.

If I point out their flaws they deny, it.
The thing is I know I’m not perfect.
They just don’t know that I’m worth it.

I just want them to love me for every piece of me.
Even if its broken.
Even if I seem hopeless.

It’s time to make a decision.
God this feels worse than long division.

But theres not class for this.
It’s a hit or miss.

They didn’t teach me how to love myself when people I love don’t.
They didn’t teach me how to care about people when they won’t.

They didn’t teach me how to be alone.

I was forced to grow up, too soon.
It wasn’t something I wanted to choose.

It really didn’t matter either way.
I had a voice, but I had no say.

It’s still tough to wake up,
and know I’m not enough,
for them.

And even harder to accept that they might not be enough for me.