dear mom and dad.

Who ever told you it was okay to be distant

That when I said "I'm fine" every instant

You were never allowed to think, maybe

Maybe she's not okay, we'll see

If this or that could make a difference

Well maybe it won't, to you it won't make sense

How I only function when I set my own rules

When I use my own tools

But still screw it up somehow

And that's why you catch me late at night laying still with my eyes open

And did you never stop to think, maybe something's wrong... maybe she's choking

On her own thoughts. 

Well I was never brought up

To think that anything beyond circumstances could change the way I am, 

It was always nurture, not nature, so I'm alive and not damned

My mind isn't cursed, I have a perfect life

Yeah right

Maybe those poems I showed you could offer insight

Into what I'm thinking at night

Or maybe not

Maybe I just rot

And you'll let me

This is the last time 

I'll write a poem that rhymes

Because it bothers everyone that I never put words correctly together

So maybe I'll just stop writing altogether

And smile at you, at both of you, and say the words that are on the surface

And hope to never find out what it truly means to lack purpose

So would it bother you for a second to think

That maybe I'm just always on the brink

Someday I'll explode

I hope you're there to see me go

So next time I step out of the school bus looking like I was just hit by it

Stop and think to yourself, my daughter might not be okay

And that didn't rhyme

But that's fine

Anyhow, who are you to get the overall message

Without picking at its parts?