Sharpen Your Knives and Prepare for War

I think my mom hates me.
I've done it.
I've failed her.

She was always so proud of me.
Not anymore.

She said I was so good at everything I do.
I proved her wrong.

It hurts.
She didn't say I love you before she went to bed.

It's my fault.
All my fault.

She's going to say she doesn't hate me.
She's going to say she's just disappointed.
Just disappointed.
Like that makes it better.

But I know she hates me.
She loves me still, I'm her daughter.
But she hates what I've become.
She hates how I've changed.

To be honest, I like myself better now.
I'm not hiding.
Sure, I don't open up.
But people see more of the real me than they ever have.
I don't let people shove me around.

I feel bad that I'm a disappointment to her.
But I'm not changing for her.

I don't know if she'll ever forgive me.
But I know.
Even when she hates me.
She will love, deep down.
Even if she wants to hate me.
She won't, because I'm her daughter.
She feels like it's her duty to love me.

Maybe I should just end it all.
I don't want to leave this life behind.
Just yet.
I want to live more.
But I also want to die.

I'm a disappointed.