I may not relate to those who are happier than me.

Although I may not show obvious signs of struggle, I am still lost.

For my God doesn’t speak to me the way yours does to you, maybe because my God wasn’t there for me the way yours was for you.

I don’t know, maybe, when I was left by the one who helped give me life, left with a broken heart,

was him leaving me without a bond my start to losing everything ?

Losing the hope I had that love existed, how? How could you not want what came from you.

I’ll never understand how it was easier to give me up than to learn how to love me.

Now I am stuck not knowing how to love the ones who show no struggle, no reluctance in that area..

I wish I could relate. Just relate, to love and be loved back.

But instead I have to accept that my father was the first man to hurt me.