part of me feels so ashamed
and I can see their faces now
corneas coated in pity
but they didn't expect anything else,
not really
it's never different,
it's just me
a sad exhale, it never changes
I'd stop trying if it meant
escaping their cassette-recording speeches and sorries
but part of me desperately wants,
aches to prove them wrong
that I'm not cursed
that it can be me
that I deserve it too