I will not get a card from my kids today,
No flowers will be delivered on this Mothering Sunday,
I will not wake up to breakfast in bed,
This day will always be one I completely dread.
I will not receive the customary perfume,
My day will be filled with constant doom and gloom,
I will not hear that I am the best mother in the world,
Choosing to stay on the cold floor broken and curled.
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I cannot stop, I feel as if I have been hit by a bus but I cannot stop, because if I stop I’ll think about things and if I think about things I won’t be able to keep going. Is it even worth it? I feel like I am getting nowhere, my mind is in pieces and just when I think I’ve finally cracked the puzzle more pieces get dumped on top of me.
I don’t seem to fit anymore, I can’t find that passion that fuels me, I don’t know where I belong anymore. I wanted to give answers to those people who are going through similar things from my past. But I am not healthy, I don’t have answers, and I definitely do not feel better; pain is all I feel.
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You were meant to look after me,
nurture and protect me.
Instead, your anger would burst out at me, engulf me, until all that was left was the salt from my tears.
Who’s fault was it? Did I enrage you that much?
You could not hear me, believe me, all I wanted was your love.
But you knew better, where better, did better.
I was nothing, no one, and worthless.
I did not matter, it was you who really called the shots.
Tried to mould me to be like you, never accepted me for who I was.
I would never be like you, see you, or believe in you.
I would no longer be your puppet, I am me, accept it as you see.