How old am I ? You don't know, do you? Maybe that is because you have never recognized a birthday, sent a card, or taking me to the doctor.
You don't know me. You don't know what ice-cream flavor I like, or what size shoe I wear because you were never there. You complain of your mom not giving you enough affection (I guess that gives you the "pass" to be a shitty mom) because she was trying provide you shelter and food. Bitch
How do you think I feel? You're a junkie, whore, neglectful, desperate, and my irresponsible egg donor. Affection was the least of my complaints. How dare you utter those words. One would have to be dumb or high-that's what it is, you're high (as usual); you think you sound like you make sense. I am disgusted when I think about your desperation and how you included me in it.
I hate when you try to act like you're responsible for my achievements, introduce me to your friends, and show me around like a trophy- you had nothing to do with me going to college, my life decisions, and life lessons. I did all this through grace, faith, and my strength.
Well maybe some life lessons. You taught me early what it is to feel pain.
You made me hate you. I don't hate.
*takes deep breath and continues*
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