I Could Not Tell Her...
I could not tell her...
-that she was a terrible friend/mother.
-that she needed to mind her own business.
-my side of the story because she yelled and interrupted every other word.
-I would do as I please, no matter what she said.
-that she was the reason I had scars on my left arm.
-I wanted to leave her in my bad dreams, out of my social life.
-she knew nothing about America & its culture & teenagers, much less me and my friends.
-about my life, for she would only zero in on the parts she didn't approve.
-I was broken inside, from the life she never cared to ask or learn about.
-my friends knew me better than she did.
-everything that went on in my mind.
-my dreams of having a beautiful future, with, yes, guys in it, and plenty of friends & happy moments.
-that, no matter how hard she tried to not make me do it, I borrow other people's clothes.
-about the boys in my life.
-about my teachers.
-about my back-stabbing, slutty ex-friends.
-about my kind, encouraging friends.
-about drugs I never wanted to do.
-about friends who did.
-about the suicide I wanted to commit.
-about my suicide based story
-about my poems
-about my pain
-that I missed our old life.
-about the people I tried so hard to impress
-the kind of stuff I told Daddy
-how much I loved (love), missed (miss), and needed (need) Daisy Mae.
-tears seemed to pour from my eyes several times a year, like rain.
-that she was right, I was getting fat.
-that I thought I was ugly.
-she was right by saying my hair was plain and ugly, the bags under my eyes made me look like a raccoon and that I'm just not all that great in beauty over all.
-she was wrong in judging me and the people I hang out with.
-this family is a jigsaw puzzle, unable to be put back together again.
-i knew she didn't actually care as much about how we feel as she wanted us to believe
- i knew her reprimanding was all for her reputation
-how insecure I was
-how much I hate life & the world & people.
I could not tell her
anything.
*9/16/09
-that she was a terrible friend/mother.
-that she needed to mind her own business.
-my side of the story because she yelled and interrupted every other word.
-I would do as I please, no matter what she said.
-that she was the reason I had scars on my left arm.
-I wanted to leave her in my bad dreams, out of my social life.
-she knew nothing about America & its culture & teenagers, much less me and my friends.
-about my life, for she would only zero in on the parts she didn't approve.
-I was broken inside, from the life she never cared to ask or learn about.
-my friends knew me better than she did.
-everything that went on in my mind.
-my dreams of having a beautiful future, with, yes, guys in it, and plenty of friends & happy moments.
-that, no matter how hard she tried to not make me do it, I borrow other people's clothes.
-about the boys in my life.
-about my teachers.
-about my back-stabbing, slutty ex-friends.
-about my kind, encouraging friends.
-about drugs I never wanted to do.
-about friends who did.
-about the suicide I wanted to commit.
-about my suicide based story
-about my poems
-about my pain
-that I missed our old life.
-about the people I tried so hard to impress
-the kind of stuff I told Daddy
-how much I loved (love), missed (miss), and needed (need) Daisy Mae.
-tears seemed to pour from my eyes several times a year, like rain.
-that she was right, I was getting fat.
-that I thought I was ugly.
-she was right by saying my hair was plain and ugly, the bags under my eyes made me look like a raccoon and that I'm just not all that great in beauty over all.
-she was wrong in judging me and the people I hang out with.
-this family is a jigsaw puzzle, unable to be put back together again.
-i knew she didn't actually care as much about how we feel as she wanted us to believe
- i knew her reprimanding was all for her reputation
-how insecure I was
-how much I hate life & the world & people.
I could not tell her
anything.
*9/16/09