I Think They Call This...Venting

Sometimes it just feels like nothing goes right. While I have so much to be grateful for, I can't help to get angry at some misfortunes. A lady shouldn't curse but I've been brought up like a sailor. I've weathered storms with metaphorical waves that have taken my soul deeper than it should be at this age. The deeper I go the more pressure is on me.

I've seen my father leave and come back

and my mother threaten suicide

both too many times

I've seen so many arguments

and not enough apologies

I've heard so many empty words

I can hear their echo

and I repeat myself when I say

that it makes me a better person

But I am tired of being better

I'm tired of being the mother of my mother

and babying my father

I am not a child

and I had little chance to be

and when I finally do something for me

everything falls apart

the wool strands of my dreams are being tugged

and pulled away by the leaping sheep

and they run away towards possibility

while I'm left in an open field staring at a fence.

And when the sun rises I will be left in the shadows cast

sometimes it just always feels like darkness has its hand on my shoulder

I want to be better

So I guess this is the path

tomorrow I'm gettin' yelled at

oh well

fuck it

high ho' sailor.