Every day I have to take medicine just to get out of bed.
Then some more to function in society.
Then two more pills to let me sleep,
But even then I don’t.
I often need a bump to take a shower or do laundry,
or have the motivation to simply brush my teeth.
At this point, you’re wondering-
Is she a drug addict, or just mentally ill?
I am both- or should I say borderline both?
I was hurt as a child, hurt beyond repair as they say.
At least beyond what I could repair.
I was never given the tools to stitch up my wounds.
They still lay open and often bleed.
Despite my efforts, I cannot heal them on my own.
I once used scar cream in an attempt to reduce the pain,
the pain I felt when seeing people wince at the look of them.
Obviously this didn’t help and my scars continue to haunt me,
increasing the guilt that isn’t mine.
I’m the one that carries this every day, not you.
How can I stop being a victim when this is all I know?
I suppose you taught me well.
You were simply preparing me for what was to come.
Bruising, concussions, and broken teeth.
And that’s just the beginning.
I’m unsure how to feel at this point-
Grateful for the preparation or hateful for never learning love?
I’d like to forgive and forget,
but you also taught me never to forgive.
Both in words and your actions.
You built my house on a faulty foundation,
with no escape plan.
Maybe you’re just sick too,
just too stubborn to realize it,
but at least I learned how to apologize.
You made me feel like a princess,
then threw me off the castle.
Some wounds are far too deep, it takes a lifetime to heal,
and I don’t think I can heal them on my own.
All I want is an apology… is that too much to ask?