Daughter

I think you have anger issues.
I think you don't think.
Do I love you less when you're gone?
Do you love me more when I'm gone?

These are the vintage pearls of summer.
This is the war that will crush them.

Sticks are a trees bones,
And it's our job to break them.

I think your issues are now mine.
They are a part of me I can never get rid of.

Let's destroy what can't defend.
"What do you want to do today?"
"I want to go on a killing spree."

Don't call us sociopaths, or psychotic.
We are enlightened.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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