your mother hates you, it's true

This wound we are talking about is not to be healed

It's as real as everlasting love and peace

We cannot escape our hell

We can go along with it as like with any other part of our psyche

What difference does it make

Do they like you? Do they not? Will you stop being you?? Impossible

Better be it for real

Nobody loves you or know you, never will, never can

Just be

Spontanously, trully

 

If you do not dare to love me

I will do it on my own

Burning down all the crosses

I once hanged myself on

Photo by Camila Quintero Franco on Unsplash