I tried so hard to be who you want me to be, to be nice, calm and perfect. But I'm tired, tired of trying to something I'm not. I'm not perfect I can't help that. I am who I am. I'm rude, sarcastic, annoying and don't share. It hurts me to know that you gave up your teenage years for us. But I can't be someone I'm not. Sometimes I want to freak out, sometimes I want to find someone and hit them again and again until my pain goes away. Sometimes I can't control my anger or sarcasm and I wish I could, but I can't.
you don't know me. you know the fake me. Sometimes I don't know the real me either.
