Mama, why do you do this?

You believe that, since I have no life,

I can do all of your dirty work for you.

But it doesn't matter how bad it makes me feel.

I don't do anything valuable, so why not give my time to you?

Why shouldn't you make me give you a blanket to cover your unhealthy fears?

It's only phone calls, right?

Constant. Drrraining phone calls.

Mama, you're not close with grandma.

Grandma, you're not close to great- grandma.

Why am I at fault, here?

If either one of you want to talk, you have to use my mouth.

Mother, you are the worst when it comes to this.

You make me feel like a dog on a leash.

With this, you have slowly been annihilating my mental state.

If I told you 'bout how I feel, you'd shake your head in disappointment and scold me back into these abnormal practices.

I know you have an obvious addiction to the world of materials;

how I wish that you didn't.

This feels like a trap.

I cannot wait until I am able to flee from this.

I wish you cared about what you doing to your po' child, Mama.

Can we stop this, Mama?

Can we put my mind back together, Mama?

I'm sinking...and you don't even realize it.