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My dear mother,
I cannot begin to explain how much you've hurt me,
It made self-love something I could never see.

I can't deny I'm unlovable, but from you, it hurts.
It seems like all you need to **** me are some letters and words.

I love you, mother, to the fullest extent.
I know I'm short-tempered, I try to repent.

I know I respond to your ill and hurting words
With ill and hurting words.
It makes my soul tired,
Like it was struck by a hundred swords.
I'll never move on from the hurtfulness your tongue holds.

I love you, mother, but please know,
Your words are more fatal than any weapon I ever saw.


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