A mother's love is supposed to be tender and kind, But why is yours deadly and frightening? Don't get me wrong but that's how I feel, Whenever I hear your steps nearing my room's door.
But let me tell you why I feel this way, With all due respect to you, And to whatever you have done to me, While I have barely lived in this world.
Since I was young, you hated me so dearly. What did I ever do so wrong? Was it me being conceived in your womb or something more? For you treat me just like a trash or a dog.
Fairly, whatever I do is not enough to please you. I am worthless, pathetic, and stupid as you might utter regularly. Some say, you aren't just expressive just like the others; But you are actually expressive, just not in the way expected.
Some days I wonder, am I really your child? Because I don't feel it in a way I should. All I have is a sense of physical and emotional suicide. Yet, constantly waiting for that day when I will be more than nothing.
Your words are as sharp as silver daggers, Slowly killing and numbing me in this atrocious cynical world. I usually pretend that I do not care about them but I do care. They affect me more than they should but what can I do?
You are my dearest mother, Supposedly someone who gave birth to me to see the world; Yet I am entrapped by dark clouds torturing me every second, Only laughing and seeing how I die tragically.
I wrote this letter to you not as a writing for you to change, But something as a suicide note while I beg for euthanasia. For I can't bear to cry all night long just for you to tell me I'm dramatic, Instead of assuring me that everything is going to be safe and alright.
I love you but it brings me pain, That I can't even feel that I am even your daughter, Maybe it is actually my fault why this kills me every day, But it's too late, for I will now say goodbye with tears forever unshed.