Pain, Agony And Illness

In 1997, A part of me went to heaven. When I heard the tragic news, I knew there was nothing else to lose. Though when I had my first session, And got told I had depression, I promised myself nothing could get worse; I must have put myself under a curse.

Pain, Agony and Illness. Why must I have to feel this?

The news that broke my heart, Drifted my father and I far apart. Since I was tiny with a head of curls, He had told me I was his favourite of all girls. But the things he used to do to me, Soon after my body hit puberty, Left me punching myself in the head, Wishing my mother wasn't dead.

Pain, Agony and Illness. Why do I deserve to feel this?

Dreaming I was up there with my mum, Sharing good times, having so much fun. Seeing her happy and very well-fed, Rather than lying there all bloody and red. I used to make her cupcakes for her to turn them down, Her eyes fixed on them, so big and brown. I remember suggesting an afternoon feast, Only to hear her say she's a big fat beast.

Pain, Agony and Illness. Why should I have to deal with this?

My mother died from a bullet to the skull, And since then I have never been so dull. I want to tell my dad but I just get ignored, I feel like I'm missing vocal chords. I'm missing my mouth, And I'm losing my health. My mum lived through hell, And now I am as well.

Pain, Agony and Illness. This is my story of sickness.

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