maybe you just hate me,
giving my love like it's just nothing,
surface level loves making me go crazy,
please just say you hate me.

a shard of broken glass
will not lie and tell you it won't hurt you.
if you mess around with broken glass,
you already know you could get injured...
yet why is it that a piece of glass
is more honest than a human?

honestly i lost the joy
that comes from opening presents from a big bearded man
which - now that I think about it -
is creepy.
i grew up and situations became worse
to the point where christmas is full of horrible memories -
three christmases spent homeless,
one spent fearing for my life,
and many of them pretending things weren't as bad as they were.
basically,
i spent this one alone
because that way nothing can hurt me again.

Maybe I opened more social medias,
maybe i did it to gain extra attention.
Maybe it's a way to cope,
with the ****** things that have been done to me.
I cope with these horrible memories,
by making myself an object for the internet.

Honestly, although I will tell you it wasn't your fault,
not even I now believe that.
You were so scared then -
so fragile -
you were so small to carry all that hurt and sadness.
I promise you that I'm trying to do better,
for you, little me, for you,
and maybe someday I will truly be just that:
Better.