Blocked

Bitch

Whatever I do you find a way to bitch
About all the shit I do; fuck that and that this
If only there was an mute setting to switch

I wish I could find some hope at these times
But all I can see are the tears in my eyes
I never say anything, cause you'll say it's all lies!

My coach advised me to talk to my parents
I said I don't want to; not because I'm embarrassed
It's because she gave me this pain, so tell me why should I share it!

There's glory times I forget she is there
I feel happy and me, which is beautiful but rare
But then I do some crap and her eyes start to flare

How could you? Why did you? When will you change your ways?
You always do some shit, and shit is what you say
I can't wait till you're 18; Quote: "I'm counting down the days!"

And I get it mom
I'm stuffed with flaws
But screeching isn't the way
To teach my rights and my wrongs

The only thing you helped with
Is making me insecure
You're the reason I'm writing
My mind is a blur

Remember that writing is because of my depression?
Well yeah mom, your the cause of me writing, the cause of my impression:

That I will never be good
Enough for any love
That everyone hates me
In the skies up above

And that's funny because
I don't believe in heaven
Maybe cause all I've lived
Is Hell with the DEVIL

I'm angry at you
Every time that you tell
I know it's my fault
But this is not parenting well

Can't you get what I'm going through?
Of course not how could you?
Because granted, I try and block
All my emotions from you

And do you wanna know why?
Yeah, thought so, you don't even care.
You say I'm exaggerating (and I admit I probably am)
But hey mom, this is your kid right here.

Your own son shouldn't hate you
This shouldn't be how it goes
We're supposed to love
It's something I don't even know.

So I'm counting the days, too.
I know it's nice to call your family.
But when I'm 18, I wanna block your number,
And the childhood you damned me.