Tell me, Mom—I'm not a curse,
Not just a shadow making things worse.
I'm just a soul, heavy and cold,
Carrying dreams I was never told.
Tell me, Mom—you never meant
The words that bruised, the love that bent.
That I was more than weight you bore,
More than silence behind a door.
Was I a mistake you couldn't face?
A burden wrapped in soft disgrace?
A whisper born from deep regret,
Too loud to love, too hard to forget?
Tell me, Mom—you don't despise
The breath I breathed, the tears, the cries.
And when I sleep beneath the stone,
Will you break, or stand alone?l
Tell me, Mom—just once, please say,
I was the girl you dreamed one day.