Of course, I am the disrespectful one
I am and the one who cops an attitude
I can’t be upset, no.
You can, you can do whatever you want.
You can be pissed off, you can scream, you can yell, you can be mean, you can have an attitude but as soon as I open my mouth I am the bad guy.
I have no right to be upset, no, not at all, I am not dealing with anything. I don’t care about your health, which is why I have to cut things down and not be able to do everything I would like to because I have to make sure you are okay.
I don’t care about your health at all, you are so right. I obviously don’t care about you at all because I have such an attitude.
I am sorry I am a 19 year old
I am sorry I make such a mess
I am sorry I leave everything everywhere
I am sorry I can’t do what I am suppose to the first time
I am sorry
Yes, bring my little brother into this too. Complain to him, vent to him, make him see me as the bad guy, that is just what I need, have my whole family against me.
What’s the point? What is the point of me living here? Oh right, because some of my stupid decisions have me unable to live anywhere else…..
The scissors are too pretty, they glint, they shine. No, I am not doing this for attention, I just don’t care anymore…..the slices feel good.
What is the point of living? All I seem to do is cause trouble everywhere I go. I talk too much, I can’t seem to do anything right, I leave a mess behind, I am a mess in general. I can’t even walk out of a high school without having everything fall all over the place.
All I want is a hug…..I just want a hug, and someone to tell me everything will be okay. Tell me that I can fix this. Tell me that I can clean up things, and that I can stop being a mess. Tell me that my parents will be okay. Tell me I won’t lose my family. Tell me that it isn’t my entire fault that her health is so bad. Just, I wish someone would tell me it is okay to cry. Tell me I can do this.
I am not though, I feel bad. I feel like I am bothering people if I tell them what is going on. I feel like they don’t really care, like I am some over dramatic teenager. I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I do. I know they don’t really care….so I try not to complain, it is easier to write it all out, makes me feel better anyways, at least people don’t have to listen and try to come up with something to say.
One day I will escape, go on an adventure, forget about this all and feel free…..one day.
