How am I too young to know what love is
when my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest
and been misplaced
the moment it has been taken away from its home?

Stop telling me
everything I do wrong
because I assure you... I am highly aware
just by the look of your disappointed eyes and steady moving mouth

Stop telling me
my thoughts are "ridiculous" and "stupid"
quit making excuses of how "ungrateful" I am
respect does not come on a scale of seniority

Stop telling me
you understand
Because if you did,
wouldn't I be "happy"
kind of like you've been reciting how want me to be

Hello? Can you here me?
you hate to see me choke on my tears
you hate to see me fall asleep writing black negativity

But then you sit back and take all the happiness from my fingertips
and leave me to dig holes around your helping hands
just to be slapped in the face again