From the fairy tale

I hate the way,
you think you own me.
It reflects with everything you say,
and it kills me slowly.

The way you want to pick my wounds,
and apply salt to my scars.
The way you join those goons,
and all I have to rely on now are the stars.

The words you say,
that hurt me so.
In everyway,
you watch my spirit go.
My self esteem,
go down the drain.
As you wash it away,
I don\'t know what you gain.

You\'ve claimed so many times,
that it\'s not that way.
That you love me too much,
and that your heart is not clay.
You don\'t take favoritism,
to you we are all the same.
But I have wisdom,
I too can play the game.

Mommy says,
you are old.
You\'ve been through alot,
and I should accept your scold.
But it\'s not your scoldings,
that make me sad.
It\'s how I you haven\'t given me,
what I\'ve never had.

You weren\'t even there,
when I was born.
Your love you won\'t share,
my childhood you\'ve torn.
And as I write this,
tears drop on my hands.
I\'ve never been through that bliss,
which to my cousin you grant.
What has she done?
That I can\'t do.
Why is it that she is the one,
that recieves all the love from you.

And now even wishing,
has become so useless.
Even wishing for love,
will cause me and you stress.
I just hope you forgive me for whatever it is I did wrong,
maybe it was rude behaviour,
or maybe it was for being born.
And now even if I cry, scream or wail.
I know I\'ll never get that Grandma,
that I read about in the fairy tale.