His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.
Like anyone cared where I was, or who I was.
Don't choose me. I'm not worth your time.
But she never just accepted me for the way I was.
I wish I could tell my parents, " If you want to help me, help me die.
She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.