history will miss this

when i was seventeen my daddy kicked me out of my house and it was raining. he left the car on and i ran away without knowing where to go. i cried on a taxi cab to my mother's empty house and i survived until she came back. now i visit him and he says i'm no good, he says i'm worthless and i can't think for myself and my voice you know, it never shakes. i never even quiver when he calls me names. i stand up for my self even if it scares me to death. even if it moves my guts so hard it makes me want to vomit. all of it, i'm all of it. i'm the one he kicked out and i'm the one that still came back.
so darling when you call me when she's in someone else's bed you're no better than the man that tried to send me away. you're no better when i'm your second choice to someone who doesn't know who you are anymore. and my voice won't shake, and my eyes will be dry when i tell you you're dishonest. i can think for myself and after being through hell and back, and after seeing through death's eyes and seeing that upon the face of chaos she still smiles, i'm not letting you put me down. you're no one. but i'm making my own history. and you're not in it. none of you are in it.