I am this little creature that hangs off your every word, the one you claim to love but throw aside as if it never existed. You claim to do what's best for me by leaving me alone. You do not have the part of me that is made of stone. You hold the infancy of me, the unexposed youth of me that I boarded off from the world. Rather than seeing this as a chance to change what the world has done to me, you leave me. On the ground in the mud. As I lay there I cannot move I am but an infant who was never taught to walk. I strive to stand and move along on my own. But here I am in the mud waiting for someone to come along, someone I can hold onto until my legs strengthen and I can stand alone. But no one will come, because of what you've made me. I am no longer a temptation to others but a disease they want to rid of. Awaiting my time before those in the white jackets come to rid of me I hope you stop taking pity in yourself and acting in such selfish ways. Someone still loves you, but unfortunately you will never love them in return.
