It's an insult to my intelligence, the way my mother talks to me.
I can't cope anymore.
She says I can't handle it on my own
In her own back handed way.
And that's how it feels; like a back handed slap
To my face
To my self confidence
All she does is add fuel to the fire.
The fire burns slowly
I forget about it
Then suddenly someone throws it fuel and it flares.
Then it consumes me.
All I feel is the flames licking against the walls of my mind
Nothing can extinguish it.
The water that should be used to quench it falls from my eyes.
And all I can do is wait for it to fizzle out.
That's how I feel- like I've fizzled out
Fallen from glory like a dependent child star
The fire is out, but the scorch marks remain
Unattainable expectations.
That's what my mum does.
Sets goals for me
Measures the fire by the scorch marks.
"But you used to be brilliant at maths."
Don't get me wrong, mostly she's fine.
But I'm beginning to see a pattern.
She gets angry when I state my opinion
When I argue my point not hers.
I'm not allowed to have my own voice.
My own opinions.
My own life.
It's hers. It's all hers.
She raises the hoops that I jump through
Until I have no choice but to disappoint.
Then she throws my own failure in my face.
"Well what are you going to do come next term when you're stressed?"
"I will not allow you to waste your life."
My life is mine to waste.
"What about your HSC? Will it all be fine then?"
I'm not so sure. Thanks for believing in me.
I thought family was meant to support.
Not make you feel like you're a failure.
YOU ARE READING
Emotion
RandomMy therapist wants a poem about how I feel about things. Here. She can fucking have this.