Who am I?

Who am I to feel so low? When I let you take my light and kill the glow. Who am I to cry all night? When I let you strike me down, without a fight. Who am I to hide the marks? From the other mothers in the park. I let you hurt me, kill me inside because the night you first beat me I should have died. I'm nothing but a shell of my former self, powerless to help myself.

Who am I to be depressed? To think that I deserved the best. Who am I to cut my wrists? Hoping for a moment's rest. What do I do, what can I say? God how I wish I'd died that day. Who am I to feel like this? Other's have gone through worse than this. Why can't I breathe, why can't I speak, why can't I see the light through the endless night? I'm in hell already, no need to die, don't you know? I'm dead inside.

Author's Note

Most of my poems are about my experiences and my feelings, the same as this one. Writing these is a way of self healing to me I suppose, to be able to take some of my pain and give it to all of you, so thank you all for reading.