Every time you ask me a question I nod my head,

I’d rather be lying than dead.

“Do you believe in god, are your priorities straight?”

Stop treating me like I’m eight.

 

Every time you say “I love you” Is it really true?

Or am I dreaming of normal parents,

A better version of you.

 

The yelling is constant and won’t stop.

All the daggers you stabbed me with are sharp.

Every night before I go to bed I tell myself

“Today was a bad day, and I am not okay”

 

You expect too much out of me,

A “handsome young man” who is just living out your dreams.

Continue telling yourself “This isn’t what it seems”

 

I’m sorry that you can’t win this war,

And I’m sorry that my happiness is worth fighting for.

I feel like a doll on a shelf in a 50-cent store,

Waiting to be picked up, bought, and then to be ignored.

There is a whole world out there to explore,

Yet I'm lying down trying to restore my core.

Sorry I’m not the child you used to adore,

And I’m sorry that you can’t love me anymore.

 

My words must be locked in cages,

You wouldn’t understand how hurtful this pain is.

Every argument I tell myself “You must not speak,

Go with it and remember, you’re not weak.”

 

Continue with your games of chess and threats,

But inside I know I’m only worth 50 cents.