Embarrassment.
That's what I'm called.
It doesn't matter what I say
What I do
I will always be an embarrassment
To my parents
To the ones
Who are supposedly my role models
To the ones
I have to live with
To the ones
I cannot escape until I turn 18
Embarrassment for being gay
For wanting a NASA t-shirt
For asking money to pay for gifts
For a friend
That would be paid back
Yet I am not the one scolding
Scolding and yelling
Yelling and screeching
Screeching at their child
For wanting a simple stuffed bear
That would bring joy to their friend's face
Lighting up as if a Christmas tree
I am not the one causing all the drama
And making everyone stare
In crowded stores
Why am I an embarrassment
When 50 year olds are acting like children
Like vile spoiled 3 year olds
On their birthdays
After finding out
They didn't recieve their pony
They had demanded
Why am I called a disappointment
When I ask for a little toy
Not for me
But for others
Voice raising as I try to explain
Try to explain what giving is
To a little brat
Unacceptable they tell me
How dare you
You disappointment
I wish you were never born
Slut
They tell me all that
Yet I am the embarrassment
I can only respond in silence
Even if it results in more yelling
But if I were to respond
It would be much worse
So I shut my little mouth
Hold in all my anger
And force it down my throat
As I
Am an embarrassment.
