I’ve done my best.

I’ve done my best.

I’m writing this on my gravestone.

I’ve done my best trying to be the good friend you’ll wished for.

I’ve done my best trying the good girl my momma always wanted.

I’ve done my best trying to be the best employee any company would love to have.

I’ve done my best.

But no one has ever seen that best enough.

I’m lost, you think that I’m over our friendship but I cry every night doubting myself, The guilt feeling doesn’t put me go sleep, and when I do, eventually I only dream of how bad you see me.

I’m not over how my dad abandoned me, I’m not over how much he makes me feel worthless, Even after I’ve decided to cut him off my life.

I’m not over how they see me in work always the one with attitude, the one that doesn’t give a fuck, the sarcastic one.

At the end I want acceptance, I’m sarcastic, I have attitude sometimes, but I have feelings too and I want them to accept that.

I’m not over how my mom sees me, how she is ashamed of my behaviors, how she makes me feel that I’m failing her.

I’m not over how my pain is neglected, even by myself. Not over how my struggle is translated to weakness, how my suffering is said to be lake of faith.

I’m not over anything, and one day I’ll just disappear, wake up in a different place, I won’t answer my phone, won’t check my social media. I’ll just try to have a new start. As after all this time, I’m not able to accept anything.