Letter to all the people who loved me too early

Let's pretend I am 12 in this poem and I'm still playing the
blame game, saying I blame everyone else for the way
I can't see that you love me. Say, you know my mother is far too cruel, my father is absent and all the women around me
are sacrificial. I say, the house I live in is full of illegal immigrants that came to the island by boat and often sell drugs. I say,
I'm already preparing to become everything that is around me
because at this age, I'm not aware that there is life or love beyond this. All my cousins are sleeping with men who have been in jail and dropping out of school. My mother works late nights, I spent all my day at the neighbor's house. You can see me. I can't see me,
because the patterns of the tiles on the floor of the house I live in
are all that I am.

In this poem, I am still a child wondering why this is reality.
you notice no trace of all of this in my behavior, because you see me. Just me, not me in the middle of the earthquake. For this poem people side eye me. People shade me, and misjudge me.
For my truth I am resented. Fast forward 9 years and I am becoming something else than what I've been through. I feel less
cursed and come to understand that me and my past are not
synonyms. I think of you, and you, and you.

My heart whispers. I'm sorry.
I was a girl that did not think she had any business
being alive and it took me all my teen years
to realize I could be different. I say I'm sorry,
I'm sorry, I wasted your love and your time
because no one ever told me I was worth
all of it.