again and again
No matter how high you kick the volume
You will never, ever drown out the sound of a parent's disappointment.
So much for eighteen.
But enough about that. I want to talk about people.
The ones we try so hard to win over, and at some point believe we did. Until, of course, we realize that maybe -just maybe- we are meaningless to them.
I smile more when I know I belong. I want you to accept that. Don't challenge it. Don't make anything of it. Just listen to me.
I do my best to keep it real when you're around.
In your car, in your house. Because I accept you. And I won't challenge you. You're high maintenance, but I don't care. I'll take whatever mood you're in that day because I live for the moments when you actually see me, hear me.
Maybe, on the surface, I'm the one taking advantage of our arrangement. But every time, I make sure I've given you the option to decline. I remind you that I'll go as long as you want me there. I can almost guarantee that you'll say yes most days, and I light up a little. Not because I save myself trouble, but because maybe this time it will be different. Maybe this time we can talk about something real. Maybe this time you'll let your guard down and tell me something no one else knows. Maybe you'll even ask me how my day was.
I push away the notion that you only say yes because having me around is better than silence. I try not to imagine that you're willing to give up a few extra pennies in exchange for my listening ears.
And I'm so afraid, and so ashamed.. so ashamed to admit that this is probably all true.
I don't judge you. I laugh because you make me. I sympathize with your disappointments. I absorb your criticisms like a little kid. I nod when you tell me to. I'm polite. I keep my fucking distance when you're with your fucking people.
Why? Why, why, why.
You will never, ever drown out the sound of a parent's disappointment.
So much for eighteen.
But enough about that. I want to talk about people.
The ones we try so hard to win over, and at some point believe we did. Until, of course, we realize that maybe -just maybe- we are meaningless to them.
I smile more when I know I belong. I want you to accept that. Don't challenge it. Don't make anything of it. Just listen to me.
I do my best to keep it real when you're around.
In your car, in your house. Because I accept you. And I won't challenge you. You're high maintenance, but I don't care. I'll take whatever mood you're in that day because I live for the moments when you actually see me, hear me.
Maybe, on the surface, I'm the one taking advantage of our arrangement. But every time, I make sure I've given you the option to decline. I remind you that I'll go as long as you want me there. I can almost guarantee that you'll say yes most days, and I light up a little. Not because I save myself trouble, but because maybe this time it will be different. Maybe this time we can talk about something real. Maybe this time you'll let your guard down and tell me something no one else knows. Maybe you'll even ask me how my day was.
I push away the notion that you only say yes because having me around is better than silence. I try not to imagine that you're willing to give up a few extra pennies in exchange for my listening ears.
And I'm so afraid, and so ashamed.. so ashamed to admit that this is probably all true.
I don't judge you. I laugh because you make me. I sympathize with your disappointments. I absorb your criticisms like a little kid. I nod when you tell me to. I'm polite. I keep my fucking distance when you're with your fucking people.
Why? Why, why, why.