So you say I’m harsh
Very well.
I admit
I am not very nice
At any point in time
But I try.
I try to make everyone happy
I try to help
But in the end of the day
I’m just a bothersome pest
A shallow, annoying
Pest.
Yet when I don’t reply
You say I don’t care.

Sorry if it hurt you
Sorry if it added on to your problems.
But harsh?

Everyone’s had it tough
Not only you.
You’ve definitely had it really rough
With him out there
Doing God knows what.
Sure, your life hasn’t been really happy
Well you know what?
So hasn’t mine.

My books
The stories I lose myself in
To escape
You took them away.
My connection
With all the friends I adore
You cut me off
The things that I enjoy doing
You turn them into work
Making me loath them
My emotion
You ban them
Make me suppress them
Making me pretend that I am
Once again
The cheery, innocent little girl
From years before
Who will never
Return
Keeping my guard up
Even at home
Only till I am safely under the sheets
In the dark
With the door closed
Alone
And yet, I still do as you please.

Fine.
Say that I’m selfish
Say that I demand too much
Say that I do too little
Say that I’m hopeless
But I’m only human.
Am I?
Who knows.
Probably a monster.
A leech.
A burden.

So.
Harsh?