It's growing more thin, the line I'm walking on. Because it's hard to exist when mum is crying and I can't do anything but watch in silence.

It's hard because I want to help, but every time I try, I'm hit harder.

My mum pulled me by my hair today because I can't get out of bed.

I tried to move but my body refused to do so, because maybe there's more things broken inside of me than two days ago. Something I can't touch and bandage no matter how much I try to stop myself from bleeding.

I think you heard my cries next door.

I saw you watching out the window.

But my eyes are blurred with pain.