MY MOTHER AND I IN THE CAR:

Mom: What ever happened to that boy you told me about?

Me: Oh, we kind of just stopped talking.

WHAT EACH OF US REALLY MEANT:

Mom: So, are you in some kind of secret relationship I don't know about? Are you meeting people without me hearing about it? Are you sneaking out at night to drink and do drugs and strip and sleep with boys? Do you have a love life? Tell me about everything so I can know every little detail of your life, freak out about it, obsess over it and lock you in a tower so you never ever date anyone ever or have any kind of a life because I am worried about you and I don't trust you but I love you so I am going to be as overprotective as physically possible.

Me: He turned out to be someone different than who I thought he was.
And also I don't trust you we have a terrible mother-daughter relationship and I will never confide in you because you would never understand that emotions are not logical and you are not always right mom. I love you, but I could never put my faith in you or count on you to carry me when I am broken.

I think I'd like to have a British accent that sometimes randomly morphs into a Russian one.

it comes in flashes
bright, red-hot
you feel it take over and if you feel it fast enough,
you can destroy everything in your path within moments
you spew words like venom and leave scars without thinking twice
and when it's over and done with,
you hate yourself for it.
this is what anger is,
this is how you have made cynics out of every person that's ever loved you.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore
but I know I'm doing it all wrong