I want to run,
running till I can't run anymore.
Running till the pain in my legs overwhelms the pain in my heart.
I don't care if my ankle is swollen.
I don't care anymore if it will strain my ankle further.
I don't care if I can't walk again.
How can I care when I feel only pain in my heart.
I hate lies! I hate lies! I hate lies!
How many countless times have I said that before?
Why did you still lie, mother?
Mother,
why can't you even listen to your daughter?
You want to be heard,
but have you hear?
You want to be listened,
have you listen?
You want to be loved,
have you love?
Mother,
I am your daughter,
your flesh and blood.
But you don't believe me.
Why?
It is fine if I'm not heard, or loved.
But it is not ok,
if you cannot believe me at all.
Why carry me for nine months in your tummy
and suffer?
Why even have me in the first place to disrupt your perfect life?
Why bother scolding and caning me in my teenage years and wasting your breath?
Why feed me and waste your money?
What is the point when you cannot even believe me.
Don't waste your time and money.