Meaning Well
DO I have any rights anymore?
He treats me like an adult, I act like it.
Then at the last minute he pulls out and treats me like a child.
He’s the child.
He really is.
Snooping around the house, leaving cryptic secret messages for me like he fears me.
I hate it
I want out
I want the ******** parents I deserve.
Teenage rebellion?
Oh no, this is the sign of a parents who’s housed four children but hasn’t raised one.
This is the tragedy, the monstrosity I live with
I try to be self sufficient
I make more meals for him than him for me.
I buy my own groceries, clothes, and even maintain my own pets without his help.
I want my own apartment, I want my own job.
I want structured rules and a household I can respect.
Not some desperate bachelor that only lives for himself
For HIS money
For HIS business
I have no place here
I’d run if I was smart, but I’m not.
Don’t tell me different.
Because anyone smarter than me would have run away by now.
Being juggled precariously from relationship to relationship
I don’t deserve this
I either deserve better. Or worse
A set of descent, well, intellectual parents who aren’t afraid of me.
Or I deserve death
Because if I can’t have a life worth living for, then I deserve death.
Not a brutal death.
Not a self inflicted one (I’m smarter than that now)
But a death that’s not drawn out
One where no one will miss me, one where no one would know my name.
This won’t happen
Ever
So, I plan to make a life for myself
I’m tired of relying so much on these helpless people
I want to be respected, not feared.
I want order, not a dictatorship
I want a good person to look up to
So I don’t have this terrible bleak outlook at what might happen in a life time
I want to be spoken to
And then when I speak back, I want to be listened to
I want to be welcome somewhere
I want somewhere I don’t have to be afraid of being booted out of
I want someone to talk to that isn’t as unstable as I am
Sure, I want so many things..
But are they THAT unreasonable?
So unreasonable that I’ve been deprived of them as long as I can remember?
…………………………………………………………………………………………
None of the people who I want to see this will see this
So if you’re reading, rest assured, I’m not talking about you
But isn’t this just my problem?
…………………………………………………………………………………………
Surrounded by so many people that seem to ‘mean well’
That’s what my parents are, by the way.
They’re people who ‘mean well’
These are the people who cause me the most distress in my life
The people who ‘mean well’
They promise and they promise and they promise
But at the last minute
They can’t be well
They can only ‘mean well’
DO I have any rights anymore?
He treats me like an adult, I act like it.
Then at the last minute he pulls out and treats me like a child.
He’s the child.
He really is.
Snooping around the house, leaving cryptic secret messages for me like he fears me.
I hate it
I want out
I want the ******** parents I deserve.
Teenage rebellion?
Oh no, this is the sign of a parents who’s housed four children but hasn’t raised one.
This is the tragedy, the monstrosity I live with
I try to be self sufficient
I make more meals for him than him for me.
I buy my own groceries, clothes, and even maintain my own pets without his help.
I want my own apartment, I want my own job.
I want structured rules and a household I can respect.
Not some desperate bachelor that only lives for himself
For HIS money
For HIS business
I have no place here
I’d run if I was smart, but I’m not.
Don’t tell me different.
Because anyone smarter than me would have run away by now.
Being juggled precariously from relationship to relationship
I don’t deserve this
I either deserve better. Or worse
A set of descent, well, intellectual parents who aren’t afraid of me.
Or I deserve death
Because if I can’t have a life worth living for, then I deserve death.
Not a brutal death.
Not a self inflicted one (I’m smarter than that now)
But a death that’s not drawn out
One where no one will miss me, one where no one would know my name.
This won’t happen
Ever
So, I plan to make a life for myself
I’m tired of relying so much on these helpless people
I want to be respected, not feared.
I want order, not a dictatorship
I want a good person to look up to
So I don’t have this terrible bleak outlook at what might happen in a life time
I want to be spoken to
And then when I speak back, I want to be listened to
I want to be welcome somewhere
I want somewhere I don’t have to be afraid of being booted out of
I want someone to talk to that isn’t as unstable as I am
Sure, I want so many things..
But are they THAT unreasonable?
So unreasonable that I’ve been deprived of them as long as I can remember?
…………………………………………………………………………………………
None of the people who I want to see this will see this
So if you’re reading, rest assured, I’m not talking about you
But isn’t this just my problem?
…………………………………………………………………………………………
Surrounded by so many people that seem to ‘mean well’
That’s what my parents are, by the way.
They’re people who ‘mean well’
These are the people who cause me the most distress in my life
The people who ‘mean well’
They promise and they promise and they promise
But at the last minute
They can’t be well
They can only ‘mean well’
