To My Creator:

Shadows run deep throughout my soul like interstates. They converge into the darkness that creates me. The one thing that's really funny is.... That the creator of my creators were created by you. I am the product of every emotion that you evoked within me. I am the result of every negative slur that you've said to and about me. I am the end product of your constant negativity. I am the byproduct of your hatred. I am what you made me. All because you hate me. But mom, here's the thing. You don't even know that you hate me. Every time you say the word dyke disdainfully, The person you are talking about is me. Every time you shake your head disappointedly at the girl with another girl on her arm, You're disappointed in me. Every time you rant about women liking other women, You're tearing me apart inside.... Piece by broken piece. I cry myself to sleep every night, My last words being, "My mom hates me." There's one thing that I really want for my birthday this year mom, Well........two things technically. What I want is for you to not hate me, But to love me unconditionally. And if you become overwhelmingly angry at this message Or overwhelmingly sad, I want you to know that I am not broken. This is just who I am. THIS is who I am, Who I've always been. I think I'm obligated to my happiness Even if it's a "sin". And if you decide to never speak to me again, I won't lie and say that, "I understand." I will tell you that I'll always love you. No matter what, my feelings will never unhinge. It's my birthday... Into the world I came, Loving you unconditionally. Even if you don't do the same.