I wish you were mad at me.
Disappointment is worse.
You disapprove of everything I am working on.
When I say I am working on it, you tell me it’s not good enough.
It hurts me.
Not being good enough.
What will it take?
I have spent my whole life.
My whole life on making sure everyone else is happy.
With who I am, with whatever happiness I had.
Fake smiles is all I have left.
I am happy for only so long.
Until it all comes down.
But there you go, I will be your therapist and help you. I will be here for you.
You won’t be there for me.
I want to tell everybody but I won’t.
I will expect someone to come to my rescue.
Me a damsel in distress.
Hard to imagine.
Hardened to the point I can’t cry.
Can’t cry for help.