I'm mad that when I talk about important things they roll their eyes.
I'm mad that I'm a bitch for having opinions,
or boring for being a
I'm mad they get nervous that I'm a woman;
and that I'm crazy;
and that I'm poor;
I'm mad that I've always been a little too tall;
a little too loud.
That I'm awkward,
and I grew up without a dad.
I'm mad that I don't know what it's like to control my emotions,
and that people like me are the excuses
I'm mad my dad beat me;
my boyfriend beat me;
my nation beats me;
I beat myself,
and deserve it.
I'm mad that I'm in love,
and that I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
I'm mad that I'm out of cigarettes,
and that my coffee went cold,
and that they're too good for me.
I'm mad I'm tooth-rattlingly alone, and scared.
but mostly I'm just tired.
Need to talk?
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741