not allowed to be an adult

I am the age of an adult,

but I live at home.

I have my personal things,

but you stole my printed memories.

I have free will,

but you decide what I should and shouldn’t keep.

I have my few friends,

but only a few you approve of.

I can go where I want and when I want,

but not without questions and proof.

I know I have made mistakes,

but now you turn me into a child.

Surveillance like 1984,

laws like the police,

control like the government,

I am trapped with no where to go.

I cannot leave on my own.

An endless cycle.

I have no life besides what you want me to do.

This isn’t easy.

I know,

it won’t ever be easy to do what is right.

I want the helping hand,

but the ability to do it on my own without

the micromanagement.

Not allowed to feel.

It’s always wrong.

I don’t know who I am.

I know who I want to be.

But all your new pressure and disappointment is killing me.

This is only the beginning.

Appreciative but resentful.

I cannot help these things that are coursing through me.

Trading one form of control for another.

When will I ever be able to live a day without the constant need

to please,

to prove,

to make- up for,

the gain understanding,

to show truth?

This is what it’s like to be an adult??

Hell.

 

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