Thin Air

You're talking to thin air, you know.
Every command, every subtly layered insult that's not quite an insult
Isn't making it past the headphones resting on my ears

I register
That your lips are moving
That the steady stream of verbal ice issuing forth
Is intended for me

But I'm sick of listening 
Sick of your condescension
Your demands

I'm a person too, you know
Not a larvae that's still growing
Not a piece of clay you can push and pull and prod
And certainly not a clone of yourself 

So treat me like one
Treat me like I have feelings
Treat me like an intelligent human being
Treat me like someone who's capable of hurting 
Treat me the way you demand I treat you

I know you're my mom
Not my friend
But sometimes I wish you could let go
Of that veneer
And be my friend
Just for a second
Make yourself equal to me, not above me
Because sometimes 
That's what I need

And until you do that...
You'll be talking to thin air