late in the night quiet whispers echo through the house 
intrigued, i sit at the top of the stairs listening to your conversation
and since then i regretted it.

i've been the daughter that sits at the top of the stairs since i was 11
and i've never stopped 

for 6 years now,
i sit; hearing how you talk about me...
to your friends 
to your aunt's 
to dad 
to anyone that will hear you
and over the years i've learned you like to broadcast my sins
my mistakes 
you only see me as gossip for when the conversation falls quiet

last night i sat at the top of the stairs 
and that was my final straw
pure ******* rage grew inside of me 
almost hate.
you painted the most appalling picture of me
as if im still that girl
as if i hadnt gone to extreme lengths to get rid of who i used to be 

last night, i cried myself to sleep 
and when tears ran out;
the sorrow the lonliness settled in my heart 
as if they had a home there. 


i cant wait for the day i leave and never talk to you again.