I am not sorry

The first time your words came out mailicious,                                                                                             I thought surely this must be fictitious.

You began to yank on my appearance; told me to do as I was told,                                                   just because the real me didn't fit in your ideal social mold.

Day after day; and week after week,                                                                                                               I tried to turn the other cheek.

But your words were so hurtful; so down right cruel,                                                                                   I had to move out and even ended up switching schools.

No matter how far I moved; and no matter how much I tried,                                                                you were still the reason that I always cried.

I thought I was in the wrong; that I caused all this pain,                                                                         little did I know that you were using me for your own gain.

Your words always casted shade,                                                                                                            that's the real reason our relationship began to fade. 

I grew tired of this constant fight,                                                                                                                      I knew at the end of this tunnel there was no light.

I gave it my all; I even gave it part of my soul,                                                                                            but in the end I let you bury us in a hole.

We no longer talk or exchange greetings,                                                                                                  because all I can remember is our therapist meetings.

Sure I used to be sad as I mourned this loss, but I learned that relationships can come at a cost. Sometimes that price is too high and will leave you to cry, with no guarantees that you won't be left out to dry.

A time comes when you have a choice, where you can decide to use your voice. To express how you won't be held back, that you won't take any flack, that you're sick and tired of beng stabbed in the back.  

It can give you peace knowing you gave it your all, and you shouldn't have to keep being the only one who takes the fall. So put it all on the line, and say this standard is no linger fine.

You need more and deserve more, and that shouldn't seem like a lot to ask for. And if a compromise can't be found, you can't just lay down on the ground. You have to pick yourself up and take a breath, then walk away accepting this relationship has reached it's death.

Every action and word had cut me to the core and I just simply couldn't take anymore. A mother is supposed to love, supposed to give, supposed to be lend support as long as you live. Not shout that you are a failure and can't succeed, or refuse to let you see your father because of custody inflicted greed. 

So no I am not sorry for walking away, because ever since I left my life is no longer gray.

I am happy and I am free, but most of all I am now able to be me.