I’m scared of being a parent.
In fact, I’m terrified of being a parent.
Coming from a society that tells you to bite your teeth and endure even when the world is burning around you – you’d be scared to procreate and make someone like you. Growing up, I had an alright childhood – we weren’t very rich nor were we very poor and even if we couldn’t afford the privileged comforts most kids had, we were satisfied.
You say that it’s all going to change,
You’re going to get better.
You’re going to be stronger.
You say we’re friends, you say we’re sisters,
So why do I feel like you don’t mean that?
Why does it sound like lies?
You’re only love me when you’re scared,
Only when you’re angry and alone.
You say we’re best friends, but it feels like a convenient lay.
Why is it that I’m the one to pick you up?
Stick you together when you’re a mess.
When all you ever do is just use me in the end.
I’m not going to talk you, till you talk back.
I’m not going to chase you, till you chase me.
I’m tired, so leave me alone.