I tried to die
and you didn’t look afraid.
You looked annoyed.
You counted my coping like crimes,
measured my pain
by how inconvenient it was to you.
I survived
and that was your proof
that nothing had been wrong.
You laughed when I shared trauma,
as if choking a child
was something forgettable,
as if bruises fading
meant it never happened.
You didn’t see a daughter
who wanted to stop breathing.
You saw bad habits.
You saw disrespect.
You saw yourself as the victim.
You taught me that suffering
only matters if it kills you.
And even then,
I think you would’ve blamed me.
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 1:41 PM UTC
I tried to die
and you didn’t look afraid.
You looked annoyed.
You counted my coping like crimes,
measured my pain
by how inconvenient it was to you.
I survived
and that was your proof
that nothing had been wrong.
You laughed when I shared trauma,
as if choking a child
was something forgettable,
as if bruises fading
meant it never happened.
You didn’t see a daughter
who wanted to stop breathing.
You saw bad habits.
You saw disrespect.
You saw yourself as the victim.
You taught me that suffering
only matters if it kills you.
And even then,
I think you would’ve blamed me.