You
did
this.
Mom. You did this. You did it to yourself. You
judged me, judged me for everything I do. You call me fat like
its your job. You yell at me like theres no living tomorrow. You
call me so many names. You put me through hell. You left bruises
on me when I was little. And what do I do? I cry, cut, starve,
sob, and then forgive you. Why? Because I love you. But I
can't do this anymore. You pick Brandyn over me all the time
he's your favorite. Yes, he's your son. But were equally.
I'm sorry I'm 130 POUNDS. But I'm athletic, softball,
soccer. It's not like I sit on the couch and eat freaking
donuts all dang day. I eat 2 meals a day. Dinner and a little
snack. Why? Because you brought me down so many times. You say
were going to go to conseling, but YOU need it, not me. You have
anger, you need anger managment classes. Would I love to say this
to your face? Yes. Am I afraid you'd beat me and leave more
burises and scars then I already have, yes. I'm your
daughter, not a slave. You think buying me, making me things
makes me forgive you. And that's not right. You buy things
for me for my forgiveness. But I am officially done with this
crap, done. I'm staying with dad. And that's it.
Don't bother texting or calling I won't answer you
anymore.
