DEFENDER'S RAP

• Suddenly an upsetting memory begins nibbling on my feelings.
• As the saying,
• A psyche's inactivity is a fitting factory for the archfiend
• And it's lobbing a curveball, so my strategy's hitting a yicketty
• By extracting its latency into writing for the world to see,
• Unapologetically.
•  
• The peculiarity of being a flying monkey for her siblings,
• Is unmotherly.
• In belittling delivery, 'he said / she said' while willfully ignoring me
• The single sting that's currently resurfacing is from aunty asserting:
• "Can't help those who don't help themselves." Which is true evidently
• Why she's applying it to me without directly attempting any inquiry,
• Is saying something.
•  
• Because see, the way she's framing and stating this is implying that I'm some scummy nobody that keeps complaining about being too weak to get what I need
• Or something
• And this poetry may read defensively, it's just noteworthy
• How disproportionately my so-called family sees me.
•  
• If it's that I'm living differently than what you know normally, being introvertedly
• I can't help it.
• And you genuinely worry what I'm doing without ever getting to know me, but if your worry is projecting your own insecurities and unproductively insulting me
• Then you're fucking failing communicatively.
•  
• Moral of the story,
• There's no helping people be understanding, who aren't even trying to be understanding.
•  
• Go fuck yourself, respectively