The invisible woman (Poem)

Here she comes the invisible woman.
People look at her and say:
"What a shame she has all this talent and she trows it away."
Then turn away to their more enjoyable pursuits.
Because the invisible woman is a silly girl,
who does not laugh when required, who is not interested in babies and football.
The invisible woman has a wound, inflicted a long time ago,
but no one has ever said sorry for it.
If she mention the consequences people politely move the conversation away
and she feels ashamed that the stench of her infected wound
comes out of her makeshift bandages.
The invisible woman would love some love for herself,
some simple, non conditional love that makes her laugh at the bad days.
But apparently to be loved you need to be happy,
you need to be determined and know what you want.
And no, love is not something that you can want.
So the invisible woman close around her wound because
she does not know what to do.
It's the only thing life has ever given her
It's the only thing that she has pinned to a fine art

My doctor would be proud of me...

...I am angry. I want and deserve an apology from my father, the same father that tells me that the important thing is doing things in good faith and that nothing I do is good enough in the same breath.
I have finally realized why punishment is so important for me. Because punishment is anger that finds an outlet. Punishment is an assumption of responsibility for your own mistakes. Doing things in good faith is not good enough if other people get hurt in the process. I paid the price for your good faith for you wanting to do your duty towards a sick woman. Doing your duty in Canada, well away from the sick woman that had free reins on me. I am angry and I am not angry towards myself. I am tired, because anger is a tiring emotion to discover. I do not know if it is going to change my plans, I need more sleep for that, but it's good to know you have done your best.