how pathetic were my desperate attempts to make you proud,
my disgusting desire to please you,
the irony in how standing out gives me negative attention,
but I’m so desperate for it, I could care less,
how damn demeaning is your attitude,
how patronizing your tone,
how disappointing is that look on your face,
the shame, let down, and disgrace,
its difficult to imagine the pain you put me through,
the hurt, and the stress, and the lies,
the “protection” you gave me, the love you give her,
“her” being anyone but me,
its in the look in your eyes,
the disappointment instead of pride,
the failure in not getting what I strive for,
the way I’ve begun to hate you,

so when my desperation leads to despise,
and my truth to my lies,
that’s when it will be to late,
too late for “I’m sorry”,
too late for “what’s wrong?”,
and far too late for it to be okay,

and at that point,
at the point when I hate you,
I’ll already be gone



long gone