I was told that I couldn't feel what real pain was due to being so young.
That makes no sense.
I had to go with it because they were older than me.
Taller than me.
Stronger.
Better looking.
Smarter.
Mentally degraded for years on end when I tried to express myself.
I moved to laying in my bed.
Then they cared.
Why didn't you care when I told you what was wrong with me?
Was it your state of denial?
You didn't want your daughter as sad as you?
What was it?
Why won't you tell me?
Why do you yell?
"Because we love you".
You told me.
I started confusing love for mental abuse.
Why?
Why?
Why?
I stayed up every night thinking.
"Why me?"
"Please help me."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Is this my state of denial?"
Thoughts ran and ran and ran until tears dripped from my eyes finally soothing me to sleep.
I will never forget that night.
