Such high expectation,
That happiness is waiting
Around the next corner,
The natural order.
As if years of suffering
Could yield to offerings
Of love and abundance.
Not my inheritance.
Tender years, innocence,
A gift of resilience,
Amidst the dysfunction,
Devoid of affection.
Despite high-achieving,
No Praise receiving,
Until a necessity,
A public formality.
Belatedly “Proud”!
Too late! I won’t allow
Such unwelcome emotion,
Fake love and devotion.
Raised amidst trauma,
How could we ever
Feel safe or worthy,
Or ever Be Happy?
🌻
To The Core 