Grateful Child (Age 16)

About my relationship with my mother.

	"Do you think that is a Christian way to live?" No, not a holy and goodly impression to give, And maybe, I reflected, today I would flee, Flee and see how my life should really be, Could she leave it, let it lie, no more complaint? As if she would let me exist without restraint! Quiet, quiet, the television is on, she watches, No feather may fall, not even a single blotch Of noise may disturb, for she watches now, Be still, be still, don't let out a single sound. "Cry on it, but it won't do you any good, child!" It never does any good to contest with rage, Escalating and spilling from my inner depths, Poisoning her mood further, becoming riled, Spitting on any chance to disappear from my cage. No. It won't be like this. Release me or be damned, Release me or I'll scream, listen to my demands! Behold my faded eyes, behold my crazed guise, Destroy your glassy lies, hear my anguished cries. Mind your tone with me, woman, I've had enough Of you playing the tormented victim, leaving in a huff. Dead is the day in which you controlled my style, "Child, those clothes you're wearing are far too vile. Change out of them quickly, people will laugh at you." Spare me your ignorance and all that you put me through. How do you think you know me, but never even notice, How I don't love the things you do, we're not the same, And I can't do equations, and I'll ignore your persuasions. Today I will flee, today I will be reborn a dark black lotus, And I will return to the silent earth from where I came. Mother, I'm dying, but you don't have to care, I hear it's nice and warm down there.