My family treated me harshly
for reasons unknown; they talked about me
with such bitterness and hatred even I didn’t
know why I should love someone like myself;
they’d spread dirty rumors across the globe
while I slept, they’d whisper about how
“terrible” of a person I was, but it was
the opposite of how I felt about myself.
I didn’t know why they hated me, why they
treated me the worst out of all the children; I
would’ve given anything not to relive
that pain again; they left with severe battle scars
and those scary feelings of wishing I had
never been born; I wanted to kill myself,
but God had something better for me.