distancing myself, from those closest in paces.

I give up on you.

You don't even have the decency to pretend any more.

I wish that you would either support me, or get out of my life.

I was going to do that. Another eighteen days and I would have been on the road again, traveling north on a little red bus, skipping school for the first and last time.

It was all planned out. I had my place to stay and a job lined up with the circus.

But then I found out that my perfect place was actually the most dogy location in town, and not wanting to end up in rough trouble, my plan is in pieces, once again I am lost.

You don't listen to me.
You don't remember anything I say.
You try to get me to say things I don't want, then punish me for staying my ground.
You are huge hypocrites too. Have I ever called you names, without saying sorry?
Have I ever tried to take back something that was never mine?

I don't want,
to be an engineer, an architect, a consultant or a lawyer.
I have my own dreams, my own road map, but if I tell you, I get torn down.

You don't see that every day, I wake up, and tell myself I'm ugly and fat.
That every night, I go out and sit in the damp grass
and dream.

Impossible dreams of dancing, music and writing,
of exotic lands, new shoes and beautiful, real people,
people with kind eyes and hearts.

You seem not to understand, my distance and my anger.
But I'm not really angry.

I'm just unbearably,
completely,
sad.