Tuesday, 17 February 2015


Sunday, February 15, 2015

10:26 PM

      She always said I was the black sheep, the broken egg, the lost daughter. She told me I could be smart but not like the rest of them, she made me feel insecure, she had to tell me, I was cursed in her own bizarre way, I was useless in her own cryptic way.

     She said it all, when I was so young and naïve, so gullible and vulnerable and so naked did I feel, all those times, all those years.

     Now am all grown up, with those words tucked so far away from even the deepest recesses of my mind, with no acknowledgement whatsoever left for them but sometimes when life enters it jumbled up state, I guess all you can think of are jumbled up things, those words come flooding back, bringing along with it waves and waves of pain.

     I know she never meant those things; because she only said them each time she got angry, but sometimes  words of hurt means a lot in our world of hurt.

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