Scraps 🥀

The bare minimum is an affront, 

A slap in the face, a reminder that you've been settling for scraps. 

It's a stark realization that the little you've been given is not just inadequate, but also a reflection of your own worth. 

The desperation that comes with being starved of love and attention is a palpable thing, a hunger that gnaws at your very soul. It's a hunger that makes you grasp at anything, no matter how meager, no matter how toxic. 

You'll take the crumbs, the leftovers, the silence, and the absence, and you'll call it love. You'll convince yourself that the bare minimum is enough, that it's better than nothing. But deep down, you know it's not. You know that you're being fed lies, that you're being kept in a state of perpetual want. And it's humiliating, this desperation, this neediness. It's a constant reminder that you're not enough, that you're not worthy of more. 

But what if you stopped settling? 

What if you demanded more? 

What if you refused to be satisfied with the bare minimum?