Sitting here

I've sat here, In this spot, In this seat for years. I sit under the idea that I can be the perfect kid. I sit here with my good grades, And my model behavior, Slowly morphing into someone that I'm not. I sat back and did my best, Hoping that it would finally be enough for you. Of course it isn't. I sat here hoping that maybe this, This would be the thing to end your obscenities. Of course it isn't. You let me live under false pretenses. You told me that if I sit here and behave long enough, You'll be proud, the pain would stop. But how long do I have to sit here? Is my short 17 years enough? Will any amount of time ever be enough? I'm not allowed to leave, a permanent detention. I'm not allowed to speak, a constant depression I'm suffocating under the weight of my words unspoken. I won't speak, I'll follow your rules. I won't leave, because you told me not to. I'm being as patient as I can, But I'm not an inherently patient person. I'm doing my best not to die, Gasping for air when you tell me that I can. The thing is that I am still me. You want to make a younger you, but that doesn't work for me. I am myself, or at least trying desperately not to be. But the thing with me is that I have to speak. I'm afraid that I might scream and do the one thing you're terrified the most of. Because, I have been sitting here for 17 years, Not talking, observing. Seeing all of your faults and knowing how to destroy you. If I am forced to be this shell of myself for much longer, I just might scream. So you better let me up, You better let me speak, You better let me leave, Or I'll break the silence.