Sometimes I hate my mom —
for how much it hurts to be her daughter.
To keep bleeding,
just to earn her love.
But blood isn’t enough —
she wants more.
More and more of me.
And I keep sacrificing pieces of myself,
hoping this one
is the piece she always asked for.
Hoping she’d finally love me —
for just being me.
For just being her daughter.
-
Author:
Meera Mere (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 19th, 2025 00:39
- Category: Sad
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Meera Mere, peto
Offline)
Comments3
In this poem there is a sadness where the one love that should be unconditional is not perceived. Whether true of not still a sad situation. It is as if God did not love you, and I am not a religious man. How can one love themself if the one that created you does not? A powerful message in this poem.
Ok finally someone does understand...
Powerful work.
Meera
Your writing is progressing constantly
You always had a way with words
Now you have added emotion
You are loved by many on here
Very talented
I didn't know but I needed to hear this. Thank you so much!!!
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