Everything must be done perfectly.
Not to upset anyone else.
They have to have their way,
Or else it will disrupt the balance of peace.
Lucky for me,

I can get the fingers pointed at me,
I am allowed to be scolded for mistakes.
And I get to be the central reason for family meetings.
I can do all these things,

But I am not allowed to show my appreciation for it.

I cannot shout about it
I don’t get to go out and clear my head
I am forbidden to throw fists at inanimate objects.

But most of all, I cannot let them
See or hear that I am angry
I just have to sit there and take the anger.

I am allowed to leave the room however.
I can stay quiet and let it all bottle up inside
I can’t make noise, but I can bite my own fist
To keep my teeth from clenching.
I get to make myself sick over it,
And tell no one that I am so.

I get to put on a paper-thin mask;
A clean slate of nothingness.
I can walk around wearing that
So long as nobody stirs the surface.
Or it will ripple like water,
And tear into the face behind it
Revealing the pain, still fresh from before.

Call me self-centered,
But I don’t want to follow
Those rules anymore.