my mother told me
that life
was worth living
and that dying
by my own hand
was selfish

my father said
that he would always be there
after leaving
five times

but I wonder if he knows
how many times
I died
by his foot steps
or by my mothers
second hand smoke

I would rather shoot myself
in the head
than have these demons
control me
and I would rather suffocate myself
than let your smoke choke me
I would rather choose my own fate
than have one chosen
for me
let me breathe oxygen for once
and not have my lungs crushed
by your gym shoes
let my heart not be smashed by
another slammed door
or have my mind poisoned
by your treatment and religion

god was manifested to manipulate
in whatever way
suits you best

let me not be tied down to a leash

let me not die by your hand

let me die
by my own