JOSH

Mom?
Dad?
You made me do this. I wanted to kill you but
I didn't want you dead. How else could I tell you
what's on my mind without you interrupting? Mom?
How are you singing now if you're dead? Stop it.
You used to sing that to me when I couldn't sleep.
Stop it, please? Don't I have enough pain? Isn't
it hard enough being nobody? Isn't it tough enough
that everybody looks at me like I'm a broken
trashbag? Where do I fit in? Where can I go and
not have anybody on my back? At school the teachers
are giving this test and that paper and don't do
this and don't do that. Then I come home and you
always find something that I didn't do and I'm never
good enough. I guess I'm just sick of you being
disappointed in me all the time. Remember when you
taught me the outfielders glove, dad, and I caught
a high-fly in the Little League championship game
and you carried me off the field? Why can't it be
like that? Why's it so easy to talk to you now?
Anyway, thanks for listening.