Dear my family,

as a child i was surrounded by people who hurt me.
i was hurt.
i hurt others; and it kills me.

i wonder if my brothers really did forget or if they choose not to remember how they would rip my hair out every day and beat me up.
how i couldn't grow my hair past my shoulders because of it.
how they'd call me names.
touch me.

i wonder if my parents really don't remember me begging them repeatedly to do something. did they get tired of hearing me 'complaining'? i get they were both tired after working. working two jobs and getting little to no sleep is hard. being a mom and having a job is hard.

but being home alone all day everyday with no one to talk to or look out for you is even harder .. and you're only just a child.
trying to live,
to teach themself.
you're a child who convinces themself, 'this isn't really abuse, they don't mean to hurt me.'

'normal families do this.'

no, little me.
normal families don't make little children out of fear hide in their rooms because they're terrified if they breathe wrong, they will be beat.
they don't expect a 10-year-old to make all the meals. they don't yell at them when they don't.
they don't expect a little girl to do everything and be cinderella only to then turn around and then say, 'you're not the mom in this household'. after you've begged your brothers to pick up their own things,
tired of cleaning after them.

tired of being beat.

tired of no one listening.

tired of existing.

- I forgive you guys.