I grew up in a house, but never a home, with a mother whose love i’ve never known. Her eyes held ice, her words held fire, no warmth, no praise, just quiet ire.
I tried so hard to make her see, to be the child she’d want in me. But every smile, every plea, fell like whispers lost at sea.
So I learned to chase what I never had, to seek in others what felt like sand. A touch, a word, a fleeting glance, a moment’s love, just one small chance.
Tell me I matter, tell me you care, tell me you’re happy just knowing i’m here. Because without it, I fade, I fall, like I was never here at all.
A life spent grasping, reaching wide, for something soft i’m denied. A heart still bruised, a soul still small, still waiting for love that may never call.
