anger

under the green shirt that my dad put on to leave for a trip last week

and the teal shorts my sisters fought over two days ago

and the hoodie collection i use to hide my body

there's a red couch

where i used to lay on my dad's chest while we both napped

and we took a sibling photo years ago when everything was different

and i pulled on my velcro shoes before my first day of kindergarten

i loved that red couch

but now i hate the color red

the sun will come up again and

the world will keep on spinning and

the flowers will bloom each spring and 

you will keep on living

they say

it will all be okay

they say

i've never heard such a cliché

i say

and i continue to stray

farther and farther away

from ever being okay

i say.

i'll never be okay.

i say.

this cannot be genetics, it has to be on me

but this aching, throbbing pain isn't something you can see

i didn't know feeling nothing could feel this new

they said growing pains but that was before i grew

i can't explain what i can't control

and i can't control what i just don't know

i'm sorry and i mean it, i really want to change

but everyone was wrong when they said it was a phase

please don't say it's what it is, don't tell me it's all over

i'll take the fucking pills but damn i'm way too sober

i'm angry and i'm sad but only at myself

when anybody asks, i'll say i'm doing well

i hate that my motivation

is based off of compensation

for something i never got from you

being petty took over

you could never love me sober

always drunk on jealousy and hate

everywhere i stepped

an eggshell had crept

someplace it never should have been

now look what you've done

you had me sleeping through the sun

don't be proud you brought out the worst

and now i hate that everything i do

isn't done for me

but for a fuck you