Yersinia pestis

They love to tell you that you smell bad
while holding up a magnifying glass
to anything you have ever failed at
because it puts you in your place…
You ain’t this, you ain’t that
you ain’t smart, you so fat
and since they love you
so they say
you can’t be mad
Why you so mad?
They love to ask your offspring
about the dirt of your behaviors
just to dangle it over your head
annually when you meet to eat like strangers
for fucking holidays
about bastards born in mangers
they live to tell you Jesus saves
but they steal everything they can
including any remnants you may have
of self esteem or a life goal or a plan
If you stick around they call you a loser
and call you the same if you ever leave
You think you’re better either way it goes
it’s their tough love, they ain’t trying to be mean
They will respect you if Oprah does
They will celebrate you when you die
they carry no resemblance except blood
they hate everything you try but
If you hate them
you’re just like them
so what is sensible child to do
feel nothing for them, ignore em
Just shake the infection loose
relocate and create anyway
they can’t tell you what life to choose
so you stink in their eyes, don’t matter,
on your failures they depend
does it matter in the end
where in the world you have been?
not every family is friends
what would they have anyway
if you dare to tell the truth
if they weren’t gossiping
and judging
what it must be like to be you?

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