When I was younger I believed that I was happy.
I believed that when someone touched you in that way it was love.
I never had a family.
Yes I had a mother and yes I had a father but no it wasn’t a family.
There were only glass shatters and unavoidable screams that put me to sleep.
There was no lullabies or calm music.
There weren’t bedtime stories.
There were only arguments that created my childhood.
There was the unwanted touch of a person who was supposed to be there for me.
There were the relationships that were never to be developed.
There was trust screaming and threatening a 6-year-old girl.
When people ask what my childhood was like, I reply with one word.
Okay.
To me it was okay, it was normal for me at the time.
Now that I know it was wrong there was no way to make it right.
The untrust that I had for the world only increased.
I had no friends, I was bullied, I was a quiet girl.
And yet the world asks me if I’m okay.
Am I?
I think I am.
But am I?

Your heart opened up like a newly blossomed tulip.
You took me in like you knew me for forever.
You treated me like I was your one true friend.
But it wasn't enough.
I needed you like the tree’s need sunlight.
I needed you as if you were oxygen.
I needed you to be my forever home.
But yet it wasn’t enough.
I loved you like Bonnie loved Clyde.
Like Harley Quinn loved The Joker.
I loved you with all of me.
But of course, it wasn’t enough.
I wanted more.
I craved more.
You chose not to see the reality.
The reality of my love.
I was an open book to you.
All the feelings,wants, and needs were clearly visible.
Why not take the chance?
Why not take a chance on me?
Am I not good enough?
Am I not your type?
But then you say “I’m attracted to personality.”
Then why not choose me?
Instead, you chose the girl who broke your heart the most.
Who beat you down as if you weren't good enough.
Who was so rotten she spoiled the happiness that surrounded you.
Instead, you chose the girl who wasn’t me.