You can't listen.

It scares me, because I know I will become you.

You say it's your one failing as my parent

That you haven't introduced me to religion.

But you're wrong there, Mother Dearest.

I see it, if you do not.

I'm fine with my agnostic state.

You can't listen, and that's the truth.

I used to understand, I used to just forgive.

I can't do that now, because I've seen it through.

I used to be so young. I thought maybe that was why,

But I'm not your little girl now

And you still think I'm blind.

What will you do, when I learn from this?

What will you do then, when I stop listening to you?

I know I never would, and I see you know it too.

And now the problem changes, yet the problem's still the same.

Now you hound me always, I can't make my own mistakes.

You think you know what's best, but I've heard your stories too.

And let me just declare, I'm not half as bad as you.

Maybe it was a lifetime ago, maybe that was then,

But this is now, and I am me, and you have lost the right.

No right to listen to my phone calls, or copy AIM conversations.

No right to keep me from going to the arcade with a friend.

I'm not smoking pot, nor would I were I asked.

It hurts that you don't see it, that you don't trust me yet.

But now it turns around, and you use that tool so well.

I forget I'm angry, and I fall into your trap.

The guilt you hit me with kills my rage,

Quenches my self-pity, while fueling it as well.

You hack at me with it,

Using it strategically as a Jedi does the Force.

Now you see what a nerd I am? Now you think again.

Can't you really trust me? Why can't we be friends?

You're my mother, and I'm weakening.

I see it, off and on. You lash out once more,

And now I think it's my own fault,

I start to believe that I'm a rotten kid.

You look to me suspiciously, and I to you with spite.

I guess that's the real problem, though, that I'm not all that humble.

Maybe I was wrong, Mom. That's your biggest fault.