Their abuse was all I knew of love
Instead of a hug we’d spill some blood
Silent regret swept it under the rug.
Not knowing what they were doing was wrong.
Thinking it was my fault they were falling apart.
Believing this allusion, I’d learned to play the along.

They had told me to point to a map
And try to figure out where they wanted me to go next,
They’d never tell me when I got close,
But never hesitated to say, “You’re wrong.”

With every gesture I could only guess.
My finger pointed but had always missed.
“You’re wrong, you’re wrong.”
Those words echoed in me for so long
I began to wish that instead of having to point
I could choose anywhere and teleport.

“Figure it out on your own.”
But what is it?
How does one know when they’re good enough?
Does a timer go off,
And say “you’re all done, full grown
You did good, and now you’re on your own”?
That timer was slow,
“Enjoy being a child” some would say,
“It sucks to be old.”

But still how I wished it would ring
And I could finally get away.
Run to the places I touched on the map
The ones that were “wrong”
And never look back.

Eventually that day came
My life now my own,
Realizing that love was not meant to be cold.
And that tearing someone down
Is not how it is shown.

I got away
And according to them

I still live in the “wrong” place
Never doing the “right” thing.
But they’re still miserable
While i’m unbounded and free.
Sometimes to learn who you are
You have to believe
you have the strength
To get away
And be who you want be

_______________________________________