The Day I Died

He calls me worthless, he calls me lazy
After all this time, I wonder why I let it faze me
He blames me for this, he blames me for that
I said nothing and stayed where I sat
It hurt everybody, it broke us all
His only concern is for himself, from where he got the gall
He resents me for something, claims he gets no help
From the way he treats me, you'd think I killed her myself:
I woke up that morning, everything was fine
I went into the living room, she was laying out of line
She was sick last night, just one night of many more
What I noticed then, shocked me to my core
She wasn't breathing, my mind wouldn't let me accept
This isn't real, I internally wept
I kept myself from what I didn't want to feel
I tried to ignore it, I tried to make it go away
But it wouldn't, as the edges of my wound began to fray
That day I lost a mother, a huge piece of my being
Though I hide it well, I am always grieving
Everybody thinks I'm fine, they just don't see
Perhaps I don't want them to, maybe I just want to be
I blame myself for my own personal hell
For fooling everyone into thinking I'm doing so well
I don't know how to ask for help, to tell my problems
So I suffer in silence, searching on my own on how to solve them

It seems like I have to fight for every little thing in my life. Nothings ever given or handed to me, not that everything should be handed to me. Maybe it'll make me stronger, but how strong should one person have to be? How much should one person be made to fight for? On the other hand, I've seen people who've had to fight for nothing and everything was served to them on a silver platter. I wouldn't want to be like that ever. So maybe it's better to have to fight for something or to at least to have something that's worth fighting for. Or else, you're life probably wouldn't be worth very much. So, be thankful for what you have and keep on fighting for what you think is worth it.

Randomness

Today was beyond boring, all I did was lay around and watch horrendously bad horror movies on TV. But, I did enjoy having a day where I was able to do that and didn't have to worry about going to school the next day since I'm on fall break. I didn't have any problems with my dad today surprisingly. That's the thing: one day we get along fine, he's all father of the year and all that bullshit. Another day, he's on my case over every little insignificant thing. For example, there might be two items of clothing on my floor, so he says my room's a mess and that I need to clean it. All the while, my older brother's room looks like someone ransacked it, left, and then came back to ransack it again. So, yeah, it's either everything is perfectly fine or it's hell on earth. It's like there is no middle ground. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but you know what they say. You can't judge anyone until you walk a mile in their shoes. It's a big deal to me, because the way my father has treated me has made me unable to trust anybody and to question their every intention, good or bad. I don't like doing that, I want to be able to have friends without thinking that in the end everybody's going to either hurt me or leave me. But anyways, on a less serious note, am I the only person who is over 7 years old and still enjoys watching Spongebob? 

To understand anything you'd have to know how I got here. Well, it all starts when my mom died two and half years ago when I was 14. After that, I've felt nothing but loneliness and growing resentment toward's my father. I feel as if I have no one who really knows me and has the idea that nobody cares to know me. Anytime I tell anybody anything, I mentally brace myself for ridicule and rejection, because that's what I usually get. From my dad anyway. I know I sound like a whiny little girl with daddy issues, but it's much deeper than that. After my mom died, I was the only girl in a house with 2 brothers. I was treated different than them. I was made to cook, clean, and to grow up. I had to step up and take on responsibility, not my 23 year old brother who was a grown man. While I was a 14 year old kid, who didn't know how to deal with what dropped onto my shoulders. Anytime I complained or questioned why I had to do everything and my brothers got away with doing nothing, all I heard were excuses. Even now, when my dad is happily remarried, I'm still singled out and questioned about everything move I make. If sit on my ass all day or sleep till noon, it's thrown in my face. If one of my brothers do it, it's perfectly acceptable. So, my game plan now is too hold on until I'm 18 and pray to god I can either move out on my own or possibly crash with someone until I can do my first option.