It all started with yelling and screaming, some nasty comments here and there it’s my entire fault, I’m not the perfect child you asked for and trust me i know i never will be. I’m sorry I’ve made mistakes and I’m a massive **** up…..

I can't change who I am. I can try to do better and lord knows I've tried. I've bent to my knees, watched as my knees bruise praying that I could be the perfect child that my parents envisioned for me, but god must have been playing games. It started as banter then it was bicker, as slaps and punches were exchanged, I couldn't help but ask what the point of my creation was?

If I was here for a reason it better be a good one because i don’t know how much longer i can stay in this household and ratchet excuse I’m meant to call my life I’m only at the age of 17 years old and have been told i have so much more to live for but that must be all a joke on my behalf if I’m a failure at everything i seem to do.....

I look to the sky and tell myself it'll be alright, right as I do, a ******* storm comes along, and as the rain drops on my face I can't help but feel as though I was made to cry. I was made to be weak. I was made to be a stain of mascara sludge.

But then i realized if it weren’t to rain I’d still be in this situation I’d still be the one crying, i swear im made for internal misery.. Some are just born with tragedy in their blood i mist be one of them, but all i can do is ******* hope as i lay on the road with the rain falling all around me…..