» 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 « 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

» oh to believe you are the most

in all honesty,
i am annoyed by you.
your personality, for one, but that is something you cannot change.
it's not your fault you were born believing that
you are the center of the universe
and had it taken from you slowly, then all at once
i cannot blame you for that.

what i can blame you for, however,
is the things you say.
and you say so much -

tell me such sweet lies.
tell me that you have been through worse than me.
tell me your emotions are so much more than mine.
tell me just how much you've been through;
don't stop to ask about me.

because it's an excuse, i'd believe.
your ignoring mother and homophobic father
have turned you into such a horrible being.

and can't you believe there are people out there
who have been through worse?
can you believe that you hurt people?
or would you prefer to ignore it
and just tell me that you were already corrupted before this year?

oh, to believe you are the most -
the most hurt, the most scarred, the most traumatized,
the one with the hardest life out of us all
because you are not cis and you are neurodivergent.

and i am aware of your problems,
but what about mine?
do they exist too?
or are they just not good enough for a person
whose only problem is people not calling them the wrong name?

because please tell me
in which world do you even care about the rest of us?
you say that your mom doesn't love you, ignores you, doesn't care,
but i think you fail to see that you've become your mother.
you don't entirely see that you've done the same thing to us too. 

( 6.22 )