You lie.

You say you love me.

When I am the child that seeming knows everything.

The child that always does good.

The child that tries oh so hard to impress you.

But I fail.

I fail at one thing and despretly need help, I fail because I always seem to go to you.

I fail because when I need you on my side, you're on the other side delivering the final blow.

Why do I prefer my friends?

They help me.

They don't kill me.

You wonder why I am always happy and never seem to do anything?

Because I'm what they call humble.

I don't have a problem.

I can't have a problem.

I'm the smart child.

I'm the one who can't do something.

I need help.

I'm not used to needing help.

You call me stubborn.

I say that its hard.

That I may change.

You call me a failure that runs from every challenge I face.

You prove to me that the saltiest thing on earth are my own tears.

My own tears that run like a burst dam.

You call me weak and yell louder.

I need you on my side.

Why do you have to break me down?

You lie.

You hate me.