She stood behind me.
She tried to understand the differences in people.
And here I am in eleventh grade, mad at
myself for believing his lies for all too long.
Mad because I wasn't worth the truth, mad because
I made a fake of him,
mad because he caused my mental disorders and he
doesn't care.
Mad because I treated her so bad for so long, mad
because it took me so long to figure out,
mad because bad things happen to good people, mad
because she always had my back,
mad because she has always been my biggest
supporter.
I'm so sorry Mom, I love you more than
anything.
Don't leave me.