It outrages me how much wit he has to stare me in the eye.

"Who are you staring at?" I snarl in disgust. He only whimpers in defeat. Then falls a tear, and two and three.

"That's what I thought, you useless tool. Throw yourself into the trash you call home. I bet your parents are oh so happy when you're back from wherever they dismissed you to." Now his face blushes with a mix of anger and disappointment. A broken sense of self-security. I think I smile when I know I hit close to home.

"It rings true, doesn't it? What a scared little boy you are. Too bad there's no 'mommy' for you to run to," I almost whisper.

"There's no place for love when it comes to you," I almost say to myself.

My words are incoherent through the influx of waterworks that stain my cheeks to a plum color. I never asked for this life.

The mirror doesn't break when I force my fist onto it, only cracks. It reminds me of how I feel.

"Why do I feel like everyone is out there to get me?" I almost rhetorically ask myself. It isn't a hard question, yet it's still hard to answer. Hard on me. I'm staring back at my broken reflection.

"You're ugly, you're weak, and you're stupid. And worse of all, you're a victim."

I am a worm in the eyes of a bird, of others, of myself. I'm the bottom of a food chain where change is possible, but unknown to me.

I fall with my body weight, it's always the body weight. I know about my body weight, it's all I think about.

Please don't remind me.

I don't want to remember. "Leave the past behind," he always said, but it holds a knife and stalks me. It follows me when I search for hiding, but luck guides me to a fated corner.

"Remember to play this when you're down," she smiled.

I fumble with my pocket. I barely register my knees drawn up to my chest, and how my heart heaves in aggravation with each beat. I cringe when my bracelets draws back, but I finally have my phone.

There is no one who would open my phone, but I still had a long password. I need to hear you. Please let me hear you before it's too late. My body twitches while anxiety poisons my veins.

I find it.

My sweet, sweet boy.

My angel, my love, my son.

My sickness is too strong, much too strong for me. I tried to be strong for you, but I failed. I'm so sorry.

I love you, please be strong for me, okay baby? I may be gone, but I will always be with you.

Your mommy will always love you, but love yourself extra for me, please.

"Love yourself extra," I breathe. I repeat the words until the shaking ceases. No more tears fall.

"Be strong for me."