my mom
looks at me with disgust because i am not
what she remembers me to be
she is so confused because "she knows me"
but she hasn't asked me my favorite color since I was in kindergarten.
I am giving my everything but really i'm not.
i'm doing all I can but really I'm not.
you told me to stop lying but when I did you were even more angry
i can't keep living half alive
but I want to and its addicting to not do what you are capable of
you were mad at me when i didn't win the award that they give to one student out of five hundred kids for being the nicest
you tried to smile but disappointment contorted your face and our eyes locked in silence
i looked away
i'm trying not to let you manipulate me but i genuinly don't know if you love me or just what I produce
and if thats the case im sorry for producing below average
but i'm so sick of being scared of you
i'm so sick of being so consumed by fear that when you walk down the hall i dread your face