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by starlite_33

by starlite_33

When I am gone.

My parents miss me.

No.

they miss the therapist.

They miss the stress reliver.

They miss the one they don't have to worry about.

They miss the one who carries the extra work.

See? they don't miss you.

At least not the real you.

I mean who are you anyways?

Biologically the oldest daughter.

Theoretically A punching bag? A mother?

Feels like my siblings are my kids.

I am not complaining.

I could never.

I just don't think I was ever truly my age.

13, 14 ,15 ,16, 17 and 18 seem all the same.

The word "old soul" sounds so right.

I am the oldest daughter brought to this world by an oldest daughter.

Her mother wasn't the oldest however she was made to feel that way too.

Me, my mother and grandmother.

It's a generational thing.

So, who am I to complain? What rights do I have?

My mother was a child once and the child in her is leaning to me.

Younger her just wants someone to listen to.

Someone to depend on.

Is it allot for me? Yeah.

That's why it all ends with me.

I am the last to inherit this disease.

I will make sure of that.