every day seems the same.

i scrub the stress off my skin

i wave to the cameras above me

and i sit in the shower

thinking about how if you dug through my brain

it would just be a collage of everyone else’s.

but today,

i looked in your journal.

i said i would never do it.

because what if you had looked through mine?

how devastated would i be

if i knew?

but once again,

my morals are stabbed

by the blade of my selfishness

because that’s the kind of daughter i am.

you had to-do lists in there,

and you wrote about me

and about work

and about how you don’t have enough money

you then wrote,

what’s money anyway?

why must i live chasing it?

but what really struck me

was when you wrote about her.

you wrote that certain days are just empty

and you wrote about your memories

the good

and the end

and you wrote about how you’d never get better.

you wrote about your habits

which have turned into mine, by the way

and you even wrote about writing

maybe you passed that to me too.

i am so sorry.

i promise, whatever you feel about me now

i feel one hundred times over.

i am destined for nothing

except to be the daughter

the niece

the sister

the cousin

the student

the friend

nobody wanted.

and i want you to feel okay

but i want that for myself too.

——

this is kinda different from how i usually write lol i just read a book with a similar style especially to the first stanza. anyway sorry to the subject of this poem for lowkey airing out all your issues on this app hopefully you don’t find my account:) also i know i always tend to deviate from the prompt but i technically followed it soooo