I am Karma
Life runs its course; thought and action, instinct and reaction. There is movement, waves crashing, swells and undertow. There is balance, but it is hidden, perhaps distorted, by the motion.
My grandmother is Strong, Rightous, giving and kind. She is also cruel. She is beyond cruel. When I do something to anger her, when my mistakes anger her, she questions "What did I do to deserve you?"
She raised me, but did not. She spent money on me that I did not ask for. I leach off her like a lifeline because she did not teach me to live on my own.
I love her, I love her more than I love myself, but that is only natural because I hate myself. I love her more than I love anything else, than I could love anything, or anyone else.
And when she hurts I can't care anymore. Maybe it is something in my brain, some inbalance because I seem to have hallmarks of autisim. Maybe not.
She's cruel though, so very cruel and she hurts me. When she's upset, not even at me, she will yell at me for the slightest reason: to make herself feel better, and to get it off her chest. When she's mad at me she'll hurt me with her words, with emotional and mental abuse. And that is why, maybe, I cannot care any more.
She said she'd throw me out, the day after my birthday no less. Perhaps she's just angry though.
She's cruel, there is motion, there is balance.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
You are cruel. You are mean. And I, I am Karma.
My grandmother is Strong, Rightous, giving and kind. She is also cruel. She is beyond cruel. When I do something to anger her, when my mistakes anger her, she questions "What did I do to deserve you?"
She raised me, but did not. She spent money on me that I did not ask for. I leach off her like a lifeline because she did not teach me to live on my own.
I love her, I love her more than I love myself, but that is only natural because I hate myself. I love her more than I love anything else, than I could love anything, or anyone else.
And when she hurts I can't care anymore. Maybe it is something in my brain, some inbalance because I seem to have hallmarks of autisim. Maybe not.
She's cruel though, so very cruel and she hurts me. When she's upset, not even at me, she will yell at me for the slightest reason: to make herself feel better, and to get it off her chest. When she's mad at me she'll hurt me with her words, with emotional and mental abuse. And that is why, maybe, I cannot care any more.
She said she'd throw me out, the day after my birthday no less. Perhaps she's just angry though.
She's cruel, there is motion, there is balance.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
You are cruel. You are mean. And I, I am Karma.