I used to be able to cry on command
I was the perfect manipulator at the ripe age of six
I learned how to get what I wanted when I wanted it
My brother still uses that against me
I say I was given what I have out of pity
Its a lie
I think its the truth
My family's dislike for me could be for many reasons
Do I look too much like my mother?
Do I have her hair? Her face?
Do I think like my mother?
Does that piss them off?
I have never met my mother
But I've heard whispers
What ran through her veins now runs through mine
And I loathe her for it
She ran
First chance she got
She turned her back and fled
Maybe I am like my mother
Always running from what might hurt
Even if what might hurt is the ones I love the most
