One-Way Street Conversation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was something I wrote when I was feeling very upset. I've always come from a complicated family so yeah...read and tell me what you think.

Submitted: September 18, 2010

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Submitted: September 18, 2010

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Sitting here (It feels hot)
My jeans make my legs feel hot and cold
And I don’t care about rhyming anymore.
After a conversation in the car
With my parents
Whom I made cry
And whom are why I’m here
Don’t you see
how much it hurts
for you to listen to me
then turn away?
How can you
ask me to be your strength
when I need yours?
Why?
A layer over my heart
Blanketing the anguish
and the pain
Replaced with cold metal
You ask me what’s wrong
When I’ve tried to tell you
a hundred times before
Of course I will shout
“Hypocrite! Ask me to change
When it is you
Who causes me, MONSTER.”
I am a hybrid, a cyborg,
An in-between
Treated like I am your nothing
And yet you expect me to be your EVERYTHING
“No one listens to me”
What about your husband?
The man you married?
Am I his substitute?
Should I be forced to take his place
While he is granted
“time to change” (behind closed doors)
and does nothing?
Should I have answered
“Yes, Daddy”
When he asked me to change?
Or should I have said:
“Hypocrite!
Coward you coward
Take those words and use them for yourself”
Or should I not care?
Just say “Yes, Daddy” (Which I did.)
like I learnt my lesson
like I CARE?
Should I go to you and apologise
for being angry at you
for not standing up for us
for me?
Me who has suffered so much
Me who is “mature”
Who is your strength
But is also your child?
Me, who has to watch his moods
And make sure my sister doesn’t irritate him
And be your strength
And do my homework?
Should I?
Is it my responsibility?
To take crap from him and my sister
And be asked to love them?
Should I? Love them
so that the family stays together
or should I let it all go
and let the tears and anger run
free.
“Family, family”
What defines family?
People who care?
Or will protect you?
Um, won’t that be my FRIENDS?
And yet
I cannot find the courage
to say the words
I always think is most hurtful, that is
I HATE YOU
Are you blinded?
Haven’t I changed
Haven’t I given up
SO MUCH
Or is it not enough?
Never enough.
Why should I try?
When he is allowed to say
“this is who I am”
when I can’t.
Why should I take orders
from someone
Who I know is weaker
Who everyone has to make way for
like a baby?
I am only 13.
Tear-stained and alone
Dealing with adolescence
And a family long broken
With lessening emotion
My heart hardening
Until I feel nothing
When I read back.


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