(tw; family dysfunction)
Who am I?
I like to think that, in every punch,
Every curse,
Every outburst of rage,
There is a little bit of my father.
In every burst of anxiety,
Every obsessive drive for perfection,
Every rejection of genuine emotion,
There is a little bit of my mother.
In every spiteful comment,
In every grudge held too long,
In every egotistical thought,
There is a little bit of my stepfather.
And even if we are not together,
Fated from the beginning to tear one another to pieces,
We are still one big ******* happy family.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
(tw; family dysfunction)
Who am I?
I like to think that, in every punch,
Every curse,
Every outburst of rage,
There is a little bit of my father.
In every burst of anxiety,
Every obsessive drive for perfection,
Every rejection of genuine emotion,
There is a little bit of my mother.
In every spiteful comment,
In every grudge held too long,
In every egotistical thought,
There is a little bit of my stepfather.
And even if we are not together,
Fated from the beginning to tear one another to pieces,
We are still one big ******* happy family.
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