Take me away from this place. I am dying trying barely surviving managing to get by but only just slightly. Too many voices argue in my head, emotions like my heart beating like I’m about to be dead. Mommy and Daddy don’t get along. Each one saying that the other is wrong. Both repeating their thoughts and values and both telling me that they’re telling the truth. Attacking each other’s character, backtracking to their past, sin stacking nerve-wracking threats to send me backpacking and I’m supposed to make sense of this?
Telling me to wake up as if I’ve been spending my entire lifetime asleep. You don’t think I’ve seen enough already? Like I don’t know that my mom’s screwed up or that you got knocked up and thrust into a family, forced to mom me fast, you can still kiss my ass because no matter what you say you don’t love me like you love my little brother or sister, okay. I’m simply a screw-up, a selfish brat who was desperate enough to go after that. Please tell me again how kissing my boyfriend is rape. Quit acting like you never wanted a guy at my age. Or that you have been with me to the end. Or how my mom’s not my parent, she’s only my friend. Keep telling me that my mom doesn’t love me. Please. Everything you say only ups your credibility! Condemn me for going to someone who won’t judge. Tell me that I’m manipulating everyone too much. Quit victimizing yourself because you say I suck. Go complain to somebody who actually gives a fuck. Parents don’t just give up and throw away their kid five thousand miles away to a new place you’re ready to ship me off any given day. It’s like you’ve been waiting for a chance to send me. Even though I won’t you still want me to go. I’m only staying so you can’t say I told you so. Not every girl who has a boyfriend in high school gets a baby. And I know that a rite of passage isn’t giving up my virginity. Tell me about all of my future STD’s, the abortions, boyfriends, rapists, baby daddies, bitch please.
And you wonder why I seem so inconsiderate when you don’t even give me a reason to give a shit. You expect me to care when I get all this hate? Oh wait, its tough love, let me reiterate. I’m really thankful for the mockery and attacks on my character I really feel sorry. Especially after the part where you told me not to come running back because I’ll get no sympathy. Or how I don’t see the world as it really is. I should only listen to you because you’re always right, right? Nobody else should even give a little insight. Belittle my mental illness, ah, it feels so great! I’ve always wanted a family who would ship me to the other side of the states!
I am sixteen years old. When did my choices make me an adult? When did disobeying and making out make me the worst of them all? When did privacy mean checking every call? Yeah I lied to my parents, omaigawd I’m the worst! You might as well send me to juvey because I curse! Obviously that’s what I deserve. And to even say you hate me? I daren’t say the word. That’d be like saying my mom cares about me! Absurd!
But the worst thing is that I can’t even change your mind. I’m stuck like a slug on a table lined with salt no matter how I turn I shrivel and burn I’m spurned I’m just helpless defenseless planless perhaps soon to be homeless.
I don’t want this. I’m sixteen. Help me.
Telling me to wake up as if I’ve been spending my entire lifetime asleep. You don’t think I’ve seen enough already? Like I don’t know that my mom’s screwed up or that you got knocked up and thrust into a family, forced to mom me fast, you can still kiss my ass because no matter what you say you don’t love me like you love my little brother or sister, okay. I’m simply a screw-up, a selfish brat who was desperate enough to go after that. Please tell me again how kissing my boyfriend is rape. Quit acting like you never wanted a guy at my age. Or that you have been with me to the end. Or how my mom’s not my parent, she’s only my friend. Keep telling me that my mom doesn’t love me. Please. Everything you say only ups your credibility! Condemn me for going to someone who won’t judge. Tell me that I’m manipulating everyone too much. Quit victimizing yourself because you say I suck. Go complain to somebody who actually gives a fuck. Parents don’t just give up and throw away their kid five thousand miles away to a new place you’re ready to ship me off any given day. It’s like you’ve been waiting for a chance to send me. Even though I won’t you still want me to go. I’m only staying so you can’t say I told you so. Not every girl who has a boyfriend in high school gets a baby. And I know that a rite of passage isn’t giving up my virginity. Tell me about all of my future STD’s, the abortions, boyfriends, rapists, baby daddies, bitch please.
And you wonder why I seem so inconsiderate when you don’t even give me a reason to give a shit. You expect me to care when I get all this hate? Oh wait, its tough love, let me reiterate. I’m really thankful for the mockery and attacks on my character I really feel sorry. Especially after the part where you told me not to come running back because I’ll get no sympathy. Or how I don’t see the world as it really is. I should only listen to you because you’re always right, right? Nobody else should even give a little insight. Belittle my mental illness, ah, it feels so great! I’ve always wanted a family who would ship me to the other side of the states!
I am sixteen years old. When did my choices make me an adult? When did disobeying and making out make me the worst of them all? When did privacy mean checking every call? Yeah I lied to my parents, omaigawd I’m the worst! You might as well send me to juvey because I curse! Obviously that’s what I deserve. And to even say you hate me? I daren’t say the word. That’d be like saying my mom cares about me! Absurd!
But the worst thing is that I can’t even change your mind. I’m stuck like a slug on a table lined with salt no matter how I turn I shrivel and burn I’m spurned I’m just helpless defenseless planless perhaps soon to be homeless.
I don’t want this. I’m sixteen. Help me.
