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The days drag on in ways of despair
For things left undone yet who cares
For the one with the heart broken and bleeding.
The smiles I fake became very misleading.
I became what I hated and cry for no ‘one’.
Things left undone are things I have won
The right to be yelled at, as I am most times
For giving opinions on things that aren’t mine.
My mouth has been closed for two days and on
The only response was “cat got your tongue?”
Well yes and no but the scars are there
Hidden from everyone because who would care?
But I am no victim, you are the one
And sorry doesn’t fix what I’ve become.
I hate what I am as much as you love another,
But it is a burden I hide because I am a mother.
