My mother thinks she knows me, she thinks she knows my favorite color, she thinks she knows my favorite chip, she thinks she knows me. The saddest part is, she doesn't know my scars, my tears, my personality, my heart. I try to show some of myself but she just shuts me down. I try to show my heart but she just crushes it. I try to show my real self but she just throws it away. So, if I tell you one day that you don't know me, I know I am right.