A Daughter's Lonely Nights

Mother,
I find it hard to breathe through these lonely nights.
I tried to be perfect, Mother.
For you.
But perfect doesn’t seem to be enough anymore.
My heart is waging a ferocious war which cannot be won with mere words.
It cannot be swayed by taunts or jeers or gestures, Mother,
Nor the crippling glares sent my way.
This is no phase, Mother.
This depression is like death.
It creeps upon its victims, wallowing in the
Deep waters which linger just outside the mind,
And then it strikes.
Mother,
I don’t wish upon a star to be this way,
But pleasant dreams are hard to come by these lonely nights.

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