Stop telling me that one day I'll end up like you.

27, trapped in a dysfunctional relationship.
23, no job or schooling.
25, hating the life you wake up to.
51, asking where the **** did my life go to?
52, resentful of everyone and everything.

An alcoholic like your grandmother,
a dropout like your brother,
a burnout like your mother,
a **** up like you always would be.
Always will be.
As if it's my ******* destiny
That's the way you make it seem to me.
I'm tired and I just want to sleep,
but I hear my potential futures in the other room... Screaming at each other with slurred words....
Making no ******* sense.
Why do u think I leave when the bottles arrive?
Because the other side of you that you keep locked inside,
comes outside....
I don't like that side.
So I'll leave until the real you arrives.
Please just be safe for me in the meantime.....