push them down-- those feelings-- suck them down. in silence.
today i feel fat and worthless and silenced.
today as you yelled at me-- you stupid bitch-- i felt small. i hope that was your intention. does it make you feel better about your own pitiful life-- working in your (sister's) restaurant because you are too fucking stupid or lazy to get your own job-- when you yell at me-- a college student (not a lifer in the restaurant business) who only wants to make her 5 dollars an hour and tries as hard as possible?
today i feel ignored and unimportant.
today as i was passed over by you in favor of getting stoned instead. drugs really do ruin things. sometimes i wonder what would happen if i told you i was quitting.
i have a strangle hold on my feelings as i'm "careening through the facade of my favorite fantasy" because i'm afraid to dissapoint you... or rather, i'm afraid to disappoint myself as i shatter this perfect image i have of you.
i know we are all human. i know we all have bad days.
i know i know i know but can we please pretend that you are perfect? for just a little while, maybe? no? okay then we will just blame my crabby face on a crabby mood (or better yet, PMS) that way you won't have to take responsibility for your laziness, your poor decisions.
so i will sit quietly as all of you sing-song-- what's wrong why so sad why so sad why so sad... so sad... so sad so sad........................
and we will pretend it's my fault. even when we both know it's you.
today as you yelled at me-- you stupid bitch-- i felt small. i hope that was your intention. does it make you feel better about your own pitiful life-- working in your (sister's) restaurant because you are too fucking stupid or lazy to get your own job-- when you yell at me-- a college student (not a lifer in the restaurant business) who only wants to make her 5 dollars an hour and tries as hard as possible?
today i feel ignored and unimportant.
today as i was passed over by you in favor of getting stoned instead. drugs really do ruin things. sometimes i wonder what would happen if i told you i was quitting.
i have a strangle hold on my feelings as i'm "careening through the facade of my favorite fantasy" because i'm afraid to dissapoint you... or rather, i'm afraid to disappoint myself as i shatter this perfect image i have of you.
i know we are all human. i know we all have bad days.
i know i know i know but can we please pretend that you are perfect? for just a little while, maybe? no? okay then we will just blame my crabby face on a crabby mood (or better yet, PMS) that way you won't have to take responsibility for your laziness, your poor decisions.
so i will sit quietly as all of you sing-song-- what's wrong why so sad why so sad why so sad... so sad... so sad so sad........................
and we will pretend it's my fault. even when we both know it's you.