« And now let’s welcome the New Year,
Full of things that never have been »
— As I paint the night with my screams
Fireworks join me in this peticular choir,
Red flashes illuminating my face —
They’re highlighting the pain
That comes when things end.
It’s hard, being born a daughter!
Sometimes I want to resent my mother,
But deep down,I wish she had someome to protect her
From everything she’s been through,
The things, we didn’t talk through,
No one should live this, though.
When I was younger I thought:
« I’ll never be this bitter »
I didn’t even know what it meant then I picked that up from that book
My cool friend gave me I wanted to be like her, not her
It never occurred to me, She was her too, a human full of doubts.
I understand it now better,
My mom was never even bitter,
But I was, trying to look thougher.
I wonder how, since adolescence
I never resorted to violence
Towards others
