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: 1
- Users favorite of this poem: Meera Mere
Offline)
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