Diet.

0.5

Please stop pestering me about what I can and can not do.

You contradict yourself, mother.

Telling me that I'm such a burden. That you should have paid for an abortion.

I would cry but all your down talk shows your true colors.

Ever since father left us and your sister, my aunt, died- you've gone down hill.

Hurting me and hurting yourself. God ma'. What have you become?

"What is your mother feeding you?" You say in a taunting voice before throwing a plate at the wall beside my head.

I would reply with food but the truth is,

My mother wants me dead.