v. QUIET DAUGHTERS.
and what kind of monster would i be to tell my mother how empty i feel when she tries to find fulfillment in all the ashes of past memories and old cigarettes? what kind of daughter would i be to talk about my depression when i listen to my mother cry herself to sleep every night? how am i supposed to ask for help when the one person in my life i look up to is
falling apart?
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
