The Tales of A Broken Soul

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That Look

You know it.
You give me that look
Every day.
Like I'm the biggest
You've ever had the
Displeasure of knowing.
It's become your default.
When you face me it's the
First thing I see.
My rising image
And the lingering memory in my dreams.

I don't get it though
Why give me that look
When I'm a copy of you?
I have your traits
And yet you treat me like
You don't flow through my veins.
Like you don't make up half of me.

Do you realise the effect?
The mark you leave
When your eyes turn that way?
When your mouth shapes that frown?
When your brows crease
In that particular pattern?
You may think I don't notice
But I do.
You're not good at hiding it.
Even when I'm not looking
I know it's there.
The disappointment.
The shame.
The regret.

It's okay though.
It is what you think of me
After all.
Who am I to change your mind?
I may be your child
But I'm coloured the same
As every other
Jack and Jill out there.
It's okay.
Carry on with your ways.

I do(n't) care
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