A mother's love is supposed to be tender and kind,
But why is yours deadly and frightening?
Don't get me wrong but that's how I feel,
Whenever I hear your steps nearing my room's door.
But let me tell you why I feel this way,
With all due respect to you,
And to whatever you have done to me,
While I have barely lived in this world.
Since I was young, you hated me so dearly.
What did I ever do so wrong?
Was it me being conceived in your womb or something more?
For you treat me just like a trash or a dog.
Fairly, whatever I do is not enough to please you.
I am worthless, pathetic, and stupid as you might utter regularly.
Some say, you aren't just expressive just like the others;
But you are actually expressive, just not in the way expected.
Some days I wonder, am I really your child?
Because I don't feel it in a way I should.
All I have is a sense of physical and emotional suicide.
Yet, constantly waiting for that day when I will be more than nothing.
Your words are as sharp as silver daggers,
Slowly killing and numbing me in this atrocious cynical world.
I usually pretend that I do not care about them but I do care.
They affect me more than they should but what can I do?
You are my dearest mother,
Supposedly someone who gave birth to me to see the world;
Yet I am entrapped by dark clouds torturing me every second,
Only laughing and seeing how I die tragically.
I wrote this letter to you not as a writing for you to change,
But something as a suicide note while I beg for euthanasia.
For I can't bear to cry all night long just for you to tell me I'm dramatic,
Instead of assuring me that everything is going to be safe and alright.
I love you but it brings me pain,
That I can't even feel that I am even your daughter,
Maybe it is actually my fault why this kills me every day,
But it's too late, for I will now say goodbye with tears forever unshed.
