Your Mistake

 

I may abuse some substance,

But you’re a f*****g hypocrite

And a terrible fraud.

 

Sometimes I might lie

About my whereabouts.

“But it’s okay,

My will is good.”

While I let ganja kiss my lungs,

Sitting cross-legged in the grass,

You sip Mojitos and Kalhua in the clubs,

F*****g on the couch downstairs,

Your moans as audible as the f*****g sea.

 

So call me a bad person.

The person you don’t want me to become

Is the person that I am.

A lost cause, mother f****r.

 

So thanks for caring about me,

And reminding me that you love me

At unnecessary times.

It really made my f*****g day.

 

But now, your words are feckless;

This girl that you called your beautiful daughter

Is the person that you hate.

And hey, I’m cool with that.

 

I know you think I’m a liar,

But that’s just because you’re too narrow-minded

To comprehend anything I suggest.

I know you’d hate me if you knew.

So I’m breaking the news

As I’m breaking the law.

 

When I’m guilty of overlooking your empty f*****g morals,

I remember how you charred my lungs in the womb,

Puffing at a cigarette while some

Redundant,

Accidental

Fetus grew inside you.

 

With love,

Your mistake

Reviews

[Clockwork]

The first thing that really stands out is the emotional depth of this piece. I could almost feel the animosity, the fights, and the tension between the speaker and the parental figures described in the piece. I also thought you described the usage of the substances well. Those stanzas almost had a dream like quality to them. Well done.

[Kat]

You're not a mistake.
Parents have to be hypocritical a******s; it's their nature.