Why do You Hate Me?

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This one is going to be very personal, so please don't read if you get... hurt easily. 

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I want to cut open the putrid skin,

I want to make it bleed 

For all of my mistakes,

But what have I done so wrong? 

I just lay here, my body limp, cold, and unfeeling

As my eyes glance to the door 

Of my room once more, hoping for something more,

However, I am not delusional, 

I know now that the something I was hoping for -

Is never going to come, I am trapped here,

Like a rat in a cage, I can never escape. 

You say you hate me, but why? 

What have I done to you? 

I take that back, I was born -

Being born was my mistake, 

And, often times than not, 

I find myself wishing I had been strangled

At birth or born deceased, but, 

Unfortunately, neither of those things happened, 

I am still breathing. It's so funny how I wish 

I was dead because my mother said 

I can do nothing right, or because my 

Aunt won't even talk to me, hardly even look at me, 

It's so funny how everyone in my family finds me 

A fuckup just because I was born, it's so funny 

That I believe them; so, is that why you hate me? 

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