Dear Mommy and Daddy...
Dear Mom and Dad,
You don’t even know your daughter.
You don’t know who I am,
You don’t know what I am,
You don’t even know how I am.
Sure I can tell you all these things to make you think that I’m fine.
But I’m not.
Mom,
You still think that I’ve never tried suicide.
You still think I’m in the fucking happy world when I’m not.
I’m miserable.
I’ve held a gun to my head and shot it.
129 stitches to where my previous 30 stitches were.
Want to know how I survived?
I fell and the bullet dived into my face, made a U-shape, and went back out.
I was lucky.
I had to make sure that the doctors would let me leave unknown.
Want to know why I had been gone for three weeks?
I was in a hospital.
Why?
I was recovering from your abuse,
My suicidal-ness,
And to get away.
It was a taste of pure pleasure.
To get away from you.
You can think that I’m happy all you want,
But I’m not.
I have over thirty scars on my arms.
From what?
From a knife,
A razorblade,
Even my own nails.
You thought it was just my cat.
No,
It was me.
Daddy,
You’re my hero.
I’m your little girl.
But you don’t see the pain I’m in.
I constantly tell you.
I constantly tell you that you need to stop,
Stop drinking,
Stop smoking,
Stop everything,
So you can feel.
Feel what your daughter needs of you.
What are you trying to hide yourself in?
What are you trying to get away from?
Why do you bury yourself in these things?
Why do you want to hurt your little girl so much?
You say you love me more than the world knows,
Then stop!
Stop!
So, I can feel that love.
I’m your little girl daddy,
You bury yourselves in all of these things,
I can’t feel that daddy’s love that I need.
I’m your depressed little girl!
I’m suicidal, daddy.
Why do you bury yourselves in these things if I need you so much?
Daddy,
Please.
Please stop.
Please let yourself feel,
So you can help me,
And so I can help you.
Mommy and Daddy,
I’m not that perfect little girl.
Love,
Your little girl
You don’t even know your daughter.
You don’t know who I am,
You don’t know what I am,
You don’t even know how I am.
Sure I can tell you all these things to make you think that I’m fine.
But I’m not.
Mom,
You still think that I’ve never tried suicide.
You still think I’m in the fucking happy world when I’m not.
I’m miserable.
I’ve held a gun to my head and shot it.
129 stitches to where my previous 30 stitches were.
Want to know how I survived?
I fell and the bullet dived into my face, made a U-shape, and went back out.
I was lucky.
I had to make sure that the doctors would let me leave unknown.
Want to know why I had been gone for three weeks?
I was in a hospital.
Why?
I was recovering from your abuse,
My suicidal-ness,
And to get away.
It was a taste of pure pleasure.
To get away from you.
You can think that I’m happy all you want,
But I’m not.
I have over thirty scars on my arms.
From what?
From a knife,
A razorblade,
Even my own nails.
You thought it was just my cat.
No,
It was me.
Daddy,
You’re my hero.
I’m your little girl.
But you don’t see the pain I’m in.
I constantly tell you.
I constantly tell you that you need to stop,
Stop drinking,
Stop smoking,
Stop everything,
So you can feel.
Feel what your daughter needs of you.
What are you trying to hide yourself in?
What are you trying to get away from?
Why do you bury yourself in these things?
Why do you want to hurt your little girl so much?
You say you love me more than the world knows,
Then stop!
Stop!
So, I can feel that love.
I’m your little girl daddy,
You bury yourselves in all of these things,
I can’t feel that daddy’s love that I need.
I’m your depressed little girl!
I’m suicidal, daddy.
Why do you bury yourselves in these things if I need you so much?
Daddy,
Please.
Please stop.
Please let yourself feel,
So you can help me,
And so I can help you.
Mommy and Daddy,
I’m not that perfect little girl.
Love,
Your little girl