As I toil with their expectations
Knowing I’ll never be free
Or be what they want me to be.
The perfect daughter or the perfect wife
I seize to be what they want from me.
Exhausted of trying so hard
To receive but a taste of the cake
I helped create.
What we built has only been based
On the equation of my mistakes.
He plays his games with my heart
To pretend he will change even if it’s
Just for a part.
The words he sarcastically deem
Upon this selfless soul
Who will always, somehow, feel alone.
I refuse to be a piece of my downfall
In the years to come.