words i never said

Baggage

i overloaded the drier once again
like i always do
and yet again my selfishness
bore a boiling rage inside of you.

so i sat in the deadly silent car
the pile of clothes growing mould upon my knee
and you told me my mother had to tiptoe around
the shards of eggshells i had laid around me.

you told me that it's "not all about me"
or this imaginary world that i have built
and i have to wonder is it my crippling victim complex
that renders me so deserving of this eternal guilt.

and i wish you were like my father
that you would just scream obscenities and use violence
rather than locking me up inside my head
and paralysing me into silence

and i am so sorry
but i won't apologise for this supposed crime
but believe you me for everyone's sake,
i'll use a lighter load next time.