Realization

I try

so damn hard

to be perfect

and to fulfill every expectation.

I do everything you ask,

then go above and beyond.

I do it with the prayer

that maybe soon you’ll love me.

And it hurts.

I perform

and play the perfect daughter

so that you’ll never have to explain

why our family is in fragments.

I comfort your children, stifling my own tears

and be the mother you’re supposed to be.

Yet when you look at me

your eyes say I’m not enough.

And it hurts.

You will never truly see

exactly what you’ve put me through.

There are scars tattooed on my conscience

and scars that once bled crimson.

And you’ll never get to see those scars

because you don’t care to accept the truth.

If I were to show you

my ears would ring from your melodic screeches.

And it hurts.

With every step

it gets harder to breathe.

And every step I feel

myself slowly shattering.

But somehow I’ve succeeded

though I’ve been weighed down

by iron chains you bound me with.

I’ve amazed even myself.

Then I realized what hurts so much.

The poisoned arrow you pierced me with,

that once inflicted nearly fatal pain

was the moment when I saw

that in your eyes:

I only ever fail.