Snowflake Generation
What am I but offence and inverted hurt, slashed forearms and a consequence of the fear of expressing negativity. What a lot of pit you've carved out for me, I can't sarcastically thank you because I'll hurt your efforts. Unleashing and allowing is forbidden: spitting out venom must now be swallowed until my stomach ulcerates Swaddled me in cotton wool until I've become allergic to nuts and anxiety. Humility becomes self depreciation. Doubt becomes fact. Want becomes entitlement. and out of all of this I become miserable. I become mistake. I become fault. I become nothing. A burden on resources, on parents, on the system, whatever the hell the system is, but I'm sure I'm taking advantage of it, I'm no good after all. I begin comparing myself to pile up, Crashed cars and used tissues. Disaster and dirt. I apologise for my gentle ways. Sorry for being a mess. Sorry for being so negative, but where is it all going to go? You don't want it, we can't be angry at you, look at all you've done for us, look at how dependable we are, what a gift you never got. You think we're pathetic? Then give us the chance to show you our wrath. Take your responsibilities like I do. Take blame. Be a goddamn adult. You think we're soft? Coat us in varnish. Don't just mock us. I'll just hate you more.
