Mama

I forgive you for all that you did.

I forgive you for all that you didn't.

I don't forgive you for today.

Today you judge me because I don't love your god. Today you love me less because I hurt, because I reject your doctrine, because I carry cynicism, because I feel not your great fictional father in the sky.

Today you reject me. Today you tell me, with action, not words, that I am not your son. Today I am last week's fodder, leftovers from a life you've left behind, an almost-human that was once one in which you placed hope, faith, care, and love.

Today I am nothing to you. Today I am but the sum of the parts that I can manage all alone, without you, without the strength you were supposed to give me.

Then. Now.

And everything in between.

Today I still cry. Today I still want the love you held from me every moment I dared exert my individuality. Today I still need you. Today I could use your faith, your trust, your endorsement, and your support.

Today I feel nothing. Today I have nothing.

You may as well  not even try. You're "I'd love you if only" is almost worse than if you weren't there at all.

Today... today I miss, and I (will) cry, and I end my day alone.

Always alone. The world may be my oyster, but I shall consume it alone. No one could ever love me enough.

Here they come. The tears, I mean...