In eight grade my teacher told me to kill myself
Little did she know I already did
Said I am what my dad is
Disregarded everything I was or was going to be
You are what your dad is
If these veins in my body are his cut my circulation
If the oxygen flowing through my weak lungs are what he exhales fill them with water
Because I'd rather be no one in this world than be like that man
That very man who dismissed my cries for help
The same whom instead of showing me love showed me the door
I am not my father, nor will I ever be
At age six I learned how to hate
Hate the very man who helped create me
The only regret I have is not telling him how much I resented everything's he's done
My secluded teenage years were filled with back flashes of the disgust he showed towards me
While he played with my sister I stood by
My young mind not understanding why
Why I wasn't good enough
At age 11 I found my way out
My secret escape from reality
I didn't stop until blood dripped to the floor
Either way I felt nothing
Nothing like what he gave me
Each moment I stare through his eyes I only see myself
Only I'm not myself
At least never around him
He never deserved that
My identity has been stripped away by his vicious words
I don't deny my past but I will never become it
At the age of 17 I have learned to be content with not only myself
But with the scars I carry each day
Because I am nothing without them
