I hate that I can't look up to him.

"Who is your role model?"

"I don't have one."

I weep.
I'm too overemotional.


I stay stoic.
I'm too unfeeling.


I enjoy an ease for academics.
I'm not pushing myself.


I push myself.
I need to relax.


You know what?

I'm sick of tossing any bit of money I have to the family's needs, without a thank you, without you ever even wondering what I'd use it for, how'd I'd invest it. I'm sick of you squandering your money on beer, getting drunk sometimes before I even make it home. I'm sick of having every moment I seclude myself being called a hissy fit, and every time I try to help anyone else being called brown nosing. I'm sick of your hypocrisy, saying I am obviously incapable when it's ME who cleans the house, ME who makes sure your clothes are clean, ME who drags you to bed, ME who gives up the bits of money she receives so sparingly so that the bills have that boost, so the car has gas, so Zach and Alex have lunch money.

And I'm sick of not having a role model.

And I'm so sick that you aren't one.


I WON'T succumb to small expectations, and I will blow all predestined standards out of the water.

I WON'T quit trying to help people, even if I get made fun of by EVERYONE in my entire family, because it's when humanity quits aiding itself that there is no hope.

I won't let anyone stop me.

And if that means I have to be my own damn role model,
so be it.

I won't give up.

< Sorry about that, but I needed to vent for a bit.

Skin meets skin-
rough and pale
against
soft and tanned.
Mine against yours.

I adore it

The human body: What a strange and marvelous thing.

How strange, emotions are. Avoided easily for so long, years, over a decade. A cold, heartless facade, so easy to maintain without a chance of failure. 

Oh yes. I was good.

But then
(Yes, then!)
They came and asked "Can you help us? Can you show us the way?"

Why the f*** did I say yes?

I am not strong enough to lead. Yet they looked at me with those eyes. Damn. 

Was that the beginning of my downfall, my fall from my concrete haven? 

Because now my heart, it's all ripped open, and there's no more blood to spill. Too much has been given away to those who asked, and now my body is devouring its own tissues, flesh and fat and ligament.

If I didn't love them so much, I would hate them.