derek's poems

not my father's son

Looking down at this thing I made

It's a mess

Looking down at all the things 

That I try to confess

Smiling 

Looking down at this flesh of mine

It's terrifying to see

I know that I do this every time

And ruin the good parts of me

No more trying

I don't really even give a shit anymore

I hate that I hate myself

But it never goes away

I can't even look you in the eyes anymore

Never enough just like he says

To you every day

You know he's right

And that just makes him scarier

Looking out at the sea of people 

I'm drowning in it 

Looking in your eyes I see

You're viscous stare of disappointment 

Not enough

I don't really even give a shit anymore

I hate that I hate myself

But it never goes away

I can't even look you in the eyes anymore

Never enough just like he says

To you every day

Grab my throat just like you did when I was five years old.

Try to tell you something, thought that trusting you would break my fall? No.

Kick me out? Go ahead, you need me more than you think.

Because I'm you, you gave me this sickness I'm not complete without.

Try to dismiss it, come on admit it, you don't love me half as much as you say you do.

If you did, you wouldn't call bullshit on every single truth that I tell.

I was doing well, but then I relapsed and I can't go back to that again.

You say you're cutting back on the alcohol, but I came home from school and the first thing that I saw was you with your liquor, drink it straight then yell at me. I'm sorry that I'm never good enough, please leave me be.

The only person that disgusts me more than you is myself.

I know everything about me is wrong but there's no need to lock me in a cell, leave me alone with my thoughts, I'll be dead in an hour.

Climb your ego to the top, the tallest tower, then jump off into the pool of my blood and my tears.

I'm scared of a lot of things but I'm most afraid of fear.

Fear tears me down, I haven't built myself back up.

I'm sorry that I never could be a great son, instead a fucked up daughter that's confused and unaware of her surroundings but I'm perfectly aware of all the aching and the pounding in my head.

My sister's got a baby, my brothers got ADHD, and I'm just the faggot, I guess we're all disappointing.

But before I leave this house and before I leave this earth, I'll become myself, become a person of worth.