More.
War.
It's all I've ever known.
Out here struggling on my own.
Each day is a fight to survive.
Each hour passing with this gift of life.

Tears.
Appear.
Falling to my shirt.
Uncover my face to expose the hurt.
Done begging for your approval.
I'm here to instate your removal.

You.
Threw.
Everything you had at me.
Both figurative and literally.
Now I'll try to say this pleasantly.
Get the hell out, I'll count to three.