Don't tell me it's back to January.
I don't know how it gets this way, and I hate it so.
It saddens me to know that someone so close, one who professes love (and a "mother's love" at that!) for me, could turn on me so recklessly in a volatile instant.
But then again...
She never was maternal. I never was brought up the way most children were.
And now I'm made to feel as though your happiness, your well-being, your harmonious state of mind, (and not too long ago, your very life) rests on my shoulders alone.
This is the reason why at times I'm so afraid... I feel so breakable and I know you won't be the one to stop me from falling apart. I'm afraid of breaking you, the same way I fear I'll be broken by you. How could this happen?
I can't fix your past and I can't heal your wounds.
So stop pounding me with your suppressed frustration. Stop using me to recycle your messed up emotions. I know that I was born for this; but also for much more.
Oh, so much more.
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