A final letter that mids a scorned mother adieu.
Let me write to you now, so I won’t have to later.
This little letter
Encased in the most delicate of paper
Will be the last thing sent
From your most glorified hater.
You raised me to be something.
Not someone. Something.
An object. A tool.
I wasn’t a child to you. I never was,
A money bank. That’s what I was.
Look. I’m not stupid. I’m not naive.
I’m definitely not your cute little steed.
I know my worth. I know my desires.
I am what I make myself to be.
And to myself, I was free.
But to you?
I was a temporary nuisance.
You saw not my potential, but my worth.
And worth for you is measured in numbers.
how many digits you see in me?
As a child who gawked at the world of art with glee?
You substituted function for glamor
And you resolved everything unpleasant
You give me more reasons to resent
Than to love, more spite than spirit.
I have no reason to be indebted to you.
As you so believe I will ever bow to you.
I apologize for my rudeness.
You certainly taught me better, didn’t you?
My demands are what matters,
I’m speaking with a tone that haggles
Like the one you use when we leave the house
To hop store to store like thieving badgers.
You’re an embarrassment, you know. I hate
To have to tell you so.
As the child suffering what one would call
An entitled parent,
I wasn’t really aware this was r slash on Reddit.
You are what we all type two fun,
Absolutely insufferable in the moment
But a great gag by the end of it.
I wish to believe you loved me.
I’m sure you did, but
You weren’t looking at me.
I don’t want to be seen as
Some fuel for your greed.
And I pity my father. Really, I do.
He married under the pressure
Of old age and youth.
He wanted a family.
He wanted to be happy.
But he bound his life and work
To a bitchy little harpy.
So I say again and bid
This final letter will be set alight.
The name I so despised,
The mold I failed to fit in,
I’ll change it all for a world
That can be forgiven.
The world I seek
Is one where I no longer weep.