To my dad.

Here we are again
Fighting; over what I said
I guess I'm not the Daughter,
You wished to have
There's yelling in the room
Pointed fingers in my face
Am I really
That bad
I feel like I can't express what's on my mind,
Without you getting all
Been out of shape,
But, whatever
I don't need your negativity
Or the disappointment in your eyes
Someday your be proud of me again.