DRIP
DriP
drip
d
r
i
p
Down the drain.
It falls not from the faucet.
It falls, a crimson rain
From my mouth, my nose.
Clear from my eyes.
Not my fault.
Not my fault.
Not my fault you're unstable.
Not my fault you're angry.
Not my fault you're broken.
Why do you blame me?
Why do you take it out on me?
What did I do?
I've done nothing to you.
I probably deserve it though.
Like I deserved the beatings
At your age and younger.
I probably deserve it.
I deserve pain.
You don't.
Taking it out on me
Will only hurt you more,
But I guess that's just your way
Of dealing with the pain.

I know how you feel.
Judged.
Unloved.
Beaten.
Defeated.
Broken.
More pain than could ever be spoken.
And yet, you don't know.
You don't know that I've had it worse.
That what you feel, that rejection,
It's nothing.
Nothing compared to
Loss.
Abuse.
Being neglected.
Eating disorders.
Internal hate.
Internal demons.
Mental illness.
Being absolutely shattered.
What I've been through.
You wouldn't understand
Yes, I don't play because I grew up too fast.
Trauma does that.
You don't understand because you...
You're lucky.
You have a good childhood.
Appreciate the little things.
You spoiled brat.
You don't understand what I've done.
You don't understand what I continue to do.
You don't understand what I'll always do.
For you.