Work Text:
Woes of an Only Child
They say being an only child is great;
You are the center of attention.
What they don't mention is the truth—
You’re forced to grow up with your parents,
Mature like the firstborn,
Yet treated like the youngest,
Neglected like a middle child.
It’s lonely,
Watching them love each other so much
That I feel like nothing more than a burden.
Sometimes, I wish they were bad parents;
I wish I could say they hurt me,
I wish I had scars on my skin
Instead of invisible wounds on my heart.
At least then,
I’d have a reason to hate them.
Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so guilty.
How do you hate someone
And love them too?
I know they love me,
But it isn’t enough—
Not enough to notice me breaking,
Not enough to hear me sobbing,
Begging for someone to listen
To my silent cry for help.
Eventually, I decided to stop trying;
I didn’t want to be a burden anymore.
-A.N