My mother and I
Rarely see eye to eye
It's frustrating sometimes
The way that we are.

But I'd never ask
For any more or less
I like the way we are
The good and the grit.

And in the midst of
clinging to both
Undecided of
which hand to hold
You have ended up
losing them both

i know it's unfair
to have left you there
yet, silently wish
you would still have me
in case my mind changed.

don't stay
  because I need you,
stay
  because you want to.

you are not special
you are not the only one who has problems
or feels lonely and depress

you are not special
you're not the only one who thinks about quitting
feels not good enough and sleeps the night crying

you are not special
you are not the only one who thinks about it
ending everything with a rope or a blade

you are not special
you are not the only one who feels alone
taken for granted, set aside and misunderstood

you are not special
you're not the only one who feels hopeless
helpless, useless and lifeless

you are not special because trust me
i feel you, I get you, I AM you.
so you are NOT special.

You and I
have a story
behind closed doors,
sneaking at night,
stealing kisses,
secretly holding hands.

But you and I
both know
this story
shall never be told
not even to a single soul.