Ur Dead To Me Poem by tina anderson

I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you wanted. I'm sorry I let you down. You don't know how hard it is to please you. If you did; you'd probably go easy on me.

I can never be the person you want me to be. I'm sorry but I can't. I won't put myself through it.

You don't know just how long I've been convincing myself you don't love me. So that way, when we fight and you scream:

'You're not my daughter! '
I won't cry as hard. But every time I still do. Still sob alone in my room with the lights of and the music up. Up loud enough to drowned out my screams of emotional pain.

You keep saying:

'I was a teenager once! '

But from the way you talk you didn't get treated like I do.

The middle girl is so beautiful. She'll be a heart breaker.


The oldest girl, She's something to be proud of, huh? You constantly talk about it. How all your kids are beautiful and smart.

You never mention me. Because I have bad grades. I have an attitude. I am a liar. All I care about is my friends. I want to be a music teacher and that doesn't pay. I don't try.

Could you try when your own flesh and blood tells you that you won't succeed? Tells you that you won't go to college?

You reminded me constantly you don't believe in me.

If you repeatedly tell a person that they're mental, that they're sick, they say they'll start to believe it. They'll start to become sick.

It's the same concept. You keep saying I'll never go to college and that I'll end up pregnant with no husband and no money. I'll be working at McDonalds. I'll never amount to anything more than a waitress.

I started to believe it a while ago. I thought I'd never amount to anything. I would cry myself to sleep every night; hoping you'd come in and we'd have a 'Full House' moment. You'd hug me and tell me you loved me and dry my tears. Say you believed in me. Say I'll do something important one day.

You never, even as a child, told me I'd do something important.

'Has it always been like that? '
He had asked. I remember that day I realized it wasn't just my imagination. And wasn't jealous of them for the love and affection; I was mad at you for not giving me that.

Did you see in my eyes how bad it hurt?

Did you hear me crying that night?

Did you even notice my heart breaking into a million pieces?

I guess not.

You don't get it. I may be near adulthood; but I'm still just a kid. I need love and affection. I need to be given faith and hope. I need to know that I can come to you if something is wrong. I need you to hear the pain in my voice,

At least mom always does. But I don't live with her. So she can't do anything.

.everyone asks me if I’m ok. I tell them I; m fine, nothings wrong, just a headach.

LIAR

Because of you I can't even tell my aunt how bad you hurt me. I can't tell my sister everything like I used to. I don't bring my friends over. I don't even leave my bedroom.

“No one can use these pictures! You never look happy in them! SMILE when ur around us once in a while! ”

I scream in my head, 'No! it's because I hate pictures! I'm not pretty! ' In my head, you stop, say I'm beautiful and hug me. In reality, the tears are forming and you're still screaming.

'Nobody in the house likes you! They can’t stand your winning! '

I feel the tears slide down. 'He's right.' The back of my mind says, making the tears faster. You still scream.

'You want to leave? Leave! Nobody cares! '

I close my eyes and walk towards the back of the house, my room. You follow, still going strong and loud.

'Your not my daughter! '

I wasn't listening but I still heard that. You remember the billions of pieces you left my heart in? They just caught on fire.

That's what I feel like. I'm on fire. I'm mad. I can't breathe.

I scream thousands of incoherent words. Then scream. Just scream. You walk out and slam my door.

I stop screaming and let out a body heaving sob. I fall to the floor. I want to die. I want you to feel bad for what you've done to me. I want you to understand you're hurting me. I want you to want die. Miss me so bad, feel so bad it physically ails you.

It's selfish. All of it. I don't want to commit suicide. I don't actually want to die. I just want you to understand. That's all I've ever wanted.

I bet your thinking:

'She's just a stupid teenager. When she's older she'll appreciate me.'

But honestly; does it seem like I'll appreciate you? After all the screaming and the pain I've gone through?

I'll never fully forgive myself for letting you treat me this way.

I never want to get married for fear of becoming like you, getting divorced multiple times.

I never want to have kids. I don't want to mess them up like you've done me.

I never want to see you again after I leave. I'll be gone. I'll never want your help.

I'll never want your money. I don't want whatever I inherit from you. The others can have it.

That's what my mother told you when you were fighting. I remember hearing it.

'You'll make her hate you like you hated your father and she'll leave and unlike you; she won't come back to you. She has more willpower than you ever did. And with the way you treat her; she'll probably tell her friends and lovers your dead.'

You never encourage my singing. You never come to my shows. I had to beg you to let me change my schedual for chamber.

But the truth is; music gives me everything you didn't. It gives me hope. It gives me faith. It gives me friends who love me. Memories that I never want to forget.

Lessons you never taught me. It gives me courage to stand up for myself; bravery to fight for what I believe. And it gives me the strength to believe in myself when no one else will.

Maybe you're right and I'll end up with no husband and pregnant. But one thing you will never, ever be right about is me amounting to nothing.

I will do something important with my life, unlike you. I will teach kids everything you didn't teach me.

Better yet; I'll teach teenagers. That way, when they have family like you, at least they'll have someone in their lives that sincerely cares. Someone they can come to for anything and trust that within reason it'd be confidential.

And maybe I'd adopt a daughter who needed a family. And I would shower her in love and affection. Teach her to believe in herself, teach her right and wrong, tell her how beautiful she is, remind her daily that I love her. Make sure to instill faith in her.

And just maybe, as I watch her grow and grow I might be able to forgive you for everything.

Because I could be the parent you never were to me.

But mostly; I'll be sorry. Sorry that she'll never be able to have the memories with her Grandfather that I did.

Because as far as she'll know; her Grandfather is dead.