Respect

I look for respect.
I try for respect.
What do you do when there’s nothing left to try?
I’ve tried the advice.
I’ve looked for the books.
I ask and wonder.
But it gets me nowhere.
Is it a lost hope?
Am I a lost hope?
It’s my fault, isn’t it?
I should have been better.
I should have been there for them.
I never was, I haven’t been.
I complain and cry.
Scream and yell.
It makes me sick.
I don’t know what else to do.
I can give up.
That’s the only option I can think of now.
I have no respect from my own blood.
Ha, I’m walked on like dirt.
It doesn’t even hurt anymore.
I don’t truly feel anything.
They hate me, they want me dead.
I’m a horrible person according to them.
I’m a toy, I’m a pet, I’m something they can beat on.
I can’t do anything about it, they just won’t stop.
Should I try doing it on my own?
I’m not sure if I can.
I don’t like asking for help.
I hate looking weak.
I try to stay strong.
The walls I’ve built are breaking.
I guess I should just stop altogether.
I won’t feel anything.
I’d rather be numb anyway.
It’s better that way for me.
No pain, no anger, no sadness, no happiness.
My own sisters and brother won’t care.
I won’t tell anyone really, it’ll just happen.
So much for my respect.