Pisaries Creator

I have chewed on a piece of earth,
picked up with my hands.
They were dirty with worm poop.
My brother laughed at me,
told me how stupid I was
and how mom and dad felt
I was a lost cause.
This couldn't be true.
Mom and dad would never think this,
out loud or silently.
My actions had disappointed them before.
It wasn't my fault, not this time,
and my face felt warm under this heat.
I smelled the worm poop.
I wanted to stay hidden in my youth,
and never leave this place.
My body became chilled as I entered
the room that was reserved for me,
a place for those in denial.