You Hurt Me

It hurt when you said that I wasn’t important,

Not with those words, but with others.

You were crazy to think that it wouldn’t matter to me.

Because it does…it does so much.

~

I do have a brain,

One that I frequently use.

But somehow you think you are smarter than me.

Smarter how?

You know more facts?

At least I can feel.

~

You hurt me when you said that because of my age,

I was of no use.

No use for thinking anyway.

I’m here to tell you that age has nothing to do with ability to think.

Smarter?

Maybe.

Better?

No.

~

And it hurts to think that no matter how much I think or write,

You will still see me the same way.

I’m a child to you, nothing more.

Of little use, right now anyway.

But later, then what?

I still won’t believe you.

~

It hurts when you look at me and I know what you are seeing.

I’m the same as the newborn baby to you.

Sweet, helpless, and ignorant.

But I’m not.

~

You hurt me a lot.

And right now I can’t forgive you.

Maybe later I will be able.

But right now it hurts too much.

~

I know the truth, though.

And no matter how many times you say,

That I couldn’t possibly understand the things that you do,

I will believe that I can and do.

Because I am the same as you.

~

You hurt me.

Did you know that?