I know it's unfair
but I really fucking hate you.
And it's not because of what you did
—though that would be a good reason—
it's because ever since you
walked into this god awful life of mine
my life has gotten even worse
all my father does
is compare me to you
and tell me to be like you.
Even when I try to tell him
the things that you have done
he won't believe me.
Why?
Because my own father
likes you
—trusts you—
more than me.
Do you understand
how fucking messed up that is?
That I am such a
disappointment
that my own fucking father
likes you
—trusts you—
more than me.
And I know it's not your fault.
But I still hate you for it.
YOU ARE READING
wilting roses
PoetryAnother collection of (bad) poems. *tw: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, drinking, suicidal ideation and self harm* -a collection of poems that document my experiences with my mental health throughout high school. a warning: i had a few undiagn...
