I give up.
I'm done trying to make you happy.
I hope you know.
I don't understand why I want your approval.
For once, I want you to call me your son.
Why do I waste my tears on you?
I thought maybe you would reach out.
If you asked me why I'm doing this, I would tell my story.
I would say I don't like my chest,
that I hated looking in the mirror.
The goal was not to destroy the little relationship I still had with you.