perplexed clutter

when everythings going good, you always seem to ruin it somehow.
i hate how you won’t shut up
you continue with your immature babbling and screaming like it really means something.
your belligerent dumb remarks that you think are clever.
you’re a fucking idiot and a fake bitch because only when noones around will you be your true self.
the echos in my ears are devistating.
can’t help but cry in hate and frustration.
over and over again you scream the same word,
like it will help your cause.
you are foolish in my eyes but it still urks me so bad.
my throat hurts because i can’t speak over your obnoxious scoldings.
i do something nice for you and you make it into something completely different.
only because i didn’t do it your way or the right way.
then you call me foolish and stupid, a worthless cunt.
the word cunt is almost offensive to everyone but it doesn’t seem to phase you.
and the sad thing is it doesn’t phase me either,
only because i never knew different.
as i sit underneath your room i still hear you fifteen minutes later talking under your breath about what a piece of shit i am..
and do you wonder why i don’t feel good enough?