I would sit in my room, waiting to pull, pull the invisible trigger.
Waiting for me to let myself give up, waiting for me to say that I honestly did not give a fuck.
But then my mind would come back to haunt me, and tell me I was over-reacting.
How long could I keep myself like this?
Saying it's alright, you'll just have to live.
They don't really hate you, it's just they don't care.
Your mom, and your step-dad never will be there.
These words would comfort me, when I felt I could die.
Alone, I was ready to silently say my good-bye's.
But my mind would haunt me.
"No, stay. You'll have to survive."
I would listen, and all I could do was cry.
Days would go on, silence was best.
Don't make him mad, or you'll soon have regrets.
My mom didn't listen as I cried in her arms, telling her, that her lover brought me harm.
She would push me away and I'd walk away crying.
To my room where I pictured myself dying.
But my mind again, would come haunt me.
"It's okay, you will live, please just stop crying."
I keep on listening, sometimes I feel mad.
Thinking I'm just crazy, and after all he's my dad.
He does nothing to harm me, it's just all in my head.
That everything I say or do really is as he says.
Useless and lazy.
Annoying and loud.
But then I remember that I know I'm not crazy.
I'm just depressed and maybe I do need help.
And every night that he tells me the lies, that I'm worthless and a bitch, all I do is cry.
And wait for my mind to tell me, "Please, please don't die."
