you tell me not to wear that in my hair because that's what babies wear. i can't wear that skirt, because it's too short. i can't wear that shirt, it makes me look fat. i don't even care about looking like that, but you make it a big deal, even when I put on some heels.
I'm tired of sitting on my bed with your stupid rhythm in my head. it used to be pleasing, but now it's like a song that you put on repeat for too long.
i want to get out of the house, i want to make friends, i want to get up and dance. i want to go to prom, i want you to be gone. but you convinced me to let you stay just before i have smoked you out and threw you beside an ashtray.
just go away, i say, but you just hold me down.
you make me strap yourself to me, like you are the baby. i feed you, i carry you, and i nurture you, i don't ever take my eyes off you. you're not supposed to give babies attention all the time, but you are different. you deserve everything.
I'll sacrifice my words for you. i won't look anyone in the eyes for you. I'll stutter for you, i won't say thank you or please for you. I'll torture myself and break myself like i am a glass vase that some incautious children broke, but I'll do it all for you (and you, and you, and you) and only you.
no one else needs to share your dinner feast. it's full of meat made of fear and some sides with a few tears,
but sure, i won't stutter for my friends. you don't like them. you'll let me order their food for them in peace, you'll let me ask the teacher a question for them in peace, but you won't let me do it for me. yes, you don't like my friends,
but you adore me.
YOU ARE READING
nervous lungs.
Poetry"you planted f l o w e r s in my l u n g s but you weren't there to water them..." - lowercase intended.
