Do you know how hard it is? To sit at home. And clean the house. And do your homework. And spend time with family. When your family doesn’t want you? When your house is not your home? When you feel like you should run?

Do you know how hard it is? To be there for thirteen years. To let her call you fat? To let her call you ugly? To let her hit you? When you knew you would never do the same back?

Do you know how hard it is? To be left behind? While she’s gone? And everyday you worry whether or not she will be here tomorrow? When she never wanted you there in the first place?

Do you know how hard it is? To feel like you failed her? To know that she can’t stand talking to you, looking at you, being near you? When all you’ve ever wanted is her happiness?

Do you know how hard it is? When she says she’s happy but she won’t talk? When she cries all the time, but never to you? When she drinks and she smokes and she doesn’t want to be here? When you’d fall apart if she were ever gone?

Because I do.