…your rapid anger…
I hate how it blooms & dies.
I despise how it causes a war between my heart & my mind.
I am tired of begging you not to punch me in the face.
Throughout all my patience – I’ve never found what you’re doing to me okay.
I’ve had enough of the pain, of being your slave & being scared night & day.
I’d rather die at my own will than to keep enduring this all over again…
You’re plagued with hate – you’re only good at beating me up and complain…
Same words…everyday…
“My very own son??? Gay???!!!”
…well – goodbye then.