Angst

She told me I couldn't go to MCR's concert tonight.
And now I'm stuck in bed
Fed up and
crying my eyes out
shouting about the hate in my life.

And then she tells me to do my chores again.
I did them three weeks ago!
I know the house is dirty but
I shouldn't have to.
I'm telling her this and then we're at it again.

She doesn't understand me at all.
I mean, she's my mom
and she's known me since birth, but
birthing me for three excruciating hours just wasn't enough.
And now I'm tearing down the pictures of us hanging on the wall.

I hate my life!
And all the pampering and caring that's in it.
Forget it, all she does for me
went down with that concert ticket she flushed down the drain.
Can't she see her motherly care isn't enough for me?

Can't she see my underlying pain?
I probably should kill myself now
before she holds me inside
telling me I'll get sick
from dancing in the rain.

Sincerily,

The Angsty Teenager