You mad at me and compare me to other kids like you always did back then.
You yell at me and judge me only from your point of view.
You make me look so fucking awful in your eyes.
You talk to me like I;m a goddamn big failure to you.
You never listen to what I am trying to say.
You never give me a chance to explain about things I’ve done.
You assume from your very first time you hear from other.
You said that you just give me a solution, but all I can see and hear were complaints and critics and judgments.
Look, I know what you’ve been through, Mom. But it’s not okay that you blame me with your pain. Have you ever known or at least, considered about what I’ve been through? Have you? Did you really know what the hell I was doing here? No, right? So please, take back your words. It’s just making my wounds bigger than ever. And you can’t help if one day I am trying to end all of those shits. It’s too late. You will never know the truth. You want the best for me? Yeah, I am best if these fucking shits gone.
You’ll say that’s a foolish thing, but for me, that’s what save me.