You don't clean the dishes and I want to scream.
And then I enter my room and find a coffee cup from two weeks ago.
When you complain that school is giving you anxiety,
I want to say it's because you willingly procrastinate and prioritize boys and booze.
And then I go online and watch my grades slip.
You say you can't talk about the future and I want to rip your heart out.
And then I realize I am equally terrified.
You yell and point out all my flaws and I promise myself I am nothing like you.
And then I hear your words fall out of my mouth when I am enraged.