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Dear Mom
Dear mom,
This is a letter you will probably never read.
One that I’ve held so long in my heart,
One that reveals the real me.
But maybe you will find it
Somewhere underneath.
My phone, drawers, diary, sketchbooks —
Anywhere you claim to tidy.
You must be unaware
That everytime you question my decision,
My friends, my words, my actions, clothes I wear,
That every negation
Makes me feel
Less.
That everytime I come to you
Telling you about —
How the cause always turned out to be
Me.
Weight gain —
not stress,
overeating, lack of exercise.
Anxiety —
not expectations,
lack of planning, overthinking.
Unhappiness —
“smile more.”
Or perhaps you do know.
Perhaps —
In the slightest chance —
Perhaps you feel it was necessary
To point out every flaw I have,
Every mistake I’ve made.
Why? I cannot fathom.
Thank you for believing in the best of me
Always.
I know you think I deserve the best —
But do I really?
I don’t know.
I’m not sure.
I just want to live,
Not the best, not the worst.
I’ll figure it out on the way,
But clearly you don’t understand that.
I don’t blame you,
I blame this society.
This world that taught you and others alike
The only way to live
Is to strive for success and first place.
You lived it. You know it best.
I’m sorry.
I hope that one day —
Magically —
You’d realize these thoughts
Haunting me every day, every night.
You’d know
Whenever I ask to go outside for a walk,
Reassuring you when I’d be back by,
What I think about.
Dear mom,
This is a letter you will probably never read.
Because I
Love you, no matter what.
Because I know it’s not right
To think the way I think.
Because confession will do nothing to change this phenomenon,
But it will damage something else.
Because you’ve made too many sacrifices,
For me to act this way.
So if you accidentally discover
The real me,
An angry, a rebellious,
A childish, a disrespectful,
Me,
Thank you,
Sorry
I love you —
Nevermind.
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