You look at me as I lace up my boots. Don’t wear that falls from your lips yet again. I am but a hair out of place on your perfect head, something to be disregarded until I fit the mold you made. I try not to argue, but my anger is present, as I make my way back up those stairs to rummage through my closet for something- anything- to wear that falls into the category of your picture perfect daughter, your cookie cutter family. I look for just the right outfit, in a fleeting hope that my next choice will make you love me more. We both know that it won’t, that I have ruined everything good about me, but something in the way you look at me keeps me trying, begging, for that split second ounce of approval you save for the others. Something keeps me by your side, no matter how many times you let me down or how many times you break my heart.
I just want to feel safe again. I want a new default. I just want you to look at me and see a normal girl again, even though I’ll never be normal again because this world is big and cruel. This world does what it can to tear its inhabitants apart day after day, even though they’re just doing what they can do to survive. Don’t you see that I’m seconds away from crumbling at your feet, from soaking the shirt that was yours in the tears and bile that are already waiting to surface? Maybe you’re blind to it, blind to the fact that I can’t breathe, that I am hurting; that I was hurting; that I’m still hurting. But you don’t think it’s your fault. Get some exercise, even though I’m underweight. Stop eating like that or you’ll be obese, when I haven’t eaten in three days. You can’t dress that way because your friends won’t want to be your friends anymore. But doesn’t that just mean that you won’t want to be with me anymore? Doesn’t that just mean that my mom won’t be my mom anymore? Doesn’t that mean that my life is yours and not mine?
I’m not sure when it started, but perhaps you’ve always been this way, nitpicking every inch of me, every move I make, every word I say. You need to be sure that I don’t stray from the careful path that has been laid for me. It doesn’t matter if I destroy myself following it, only that your imperfect daughter fits the perfect mold you locked her in all those years ago. Sometimes, I wonder if your mother did this to you, too, and I ask myself if she ruined you the way you ruined me. I still hold a place in my mind and heart for you, still save a sliver of my life for you, but it’s hard to reserve a spot that you keep taking yourself out of.
One day I’ll pack up that old car filled with everything I own. I’ll buckle my seatbelt and leave this town behind, disappearing little by little as I glace up at my rearview mirror. Because isn’t that what every kid in this town dreams for when they close their eyes? A break from this plastic coated place, a relief from the bullshit that’s shoved down our throats and into our minds, chains falling as they break from the strain of holding everyone back?
I always said I wouldn’t be that girl, the one who crumbles at the feet of others, but isn’t that the person they beat me into, day after day? I hold my head high as I walk through the flames, trying not to get burned, but each lick and sizzle tears me apart. These won’t go out on their own, not without an army. But you pushed them all away from me or made me believe I needed to shut them out. You made me doubt myself, doubt everyone around me, with your lies. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get back to the girl I was before. Maybe she’s gone forever, but I’d like to believe there’s still a sliver of her left inside of me. I like to hope that I can rebuild her someday, somewhere far away from here.
-When will I be good enough for you?
