My Dad (A Vent)

The first time I ever cried tears of stress in front of my dad went the way I expected. He yelled at me, not giving me a single moment to compose myself and let me explain correctly, telling me all of the same things as everyone else but making me feel stupid as he did, adding in rude statements and laughing a bit at me like it was nothing. He made me feel weak and worse than ever, not being understanding at all. He's always been this way. Makes me fucking tired, but I live with it the best way I can. He makes me feel as though I am not trying and the things I do are stupid and pointless and he's just too narrow-minded and "normal" for me. That's why I was always drawn to mom. She never made me feel like something was completely and utterly wrong with my way of life and the way I handle a situation and she was always easier to pour out to than him. I know he's trying and I'm not saying he's not. I see he's trying his best and I do my best to help where I can. But he's not always an easy person to deal with. Just when I start to feel comfortable around him, he pisses me off and I'm back to the distance I once was. Sometimes, he pushes me back even further. He really knows how to make you feel like you're just a naive little kid. If I said half the things I felt or thought, he'd probably leave or yell and scream until one of us or both of us lost our minds. I feel like that, anyway. I'm just tired of people making me feel like I'm over exaggerating because I over think and I try not to, but it's hard to stop once it's begun. That's why I never go to him with these issues because they'll get worse with him. That's why I try to handle them myself. Be "a big girl", as they say. But I swear that I'll never be like him because I never want my child to feel terrible about feeling the way they feel and I never want them to be insecure or experience what I had to as a kid. So I never want a man like my dad. Not some impatient, close-minded, short-fused motherfucker who yells at them for the slightest of things, jumping to conclusions and constantly bringing in bull shit when they know better, and wasting time. I already love my kids and I'm just 17! If you think that I'm letting any of that same bull shit into their lives... *laughs*. You are highly mistaken. Excuse my French throughout this vent. Just letting off some steam. Forgive and forget, right?

This poem is about: 
My family


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