I am alone in this sunny room,

A dark space surrounded by light,

Weaving a tapestry on the loom,

Silently observing others' plight.

I am the dissonance in this melody,

One wrong note in my own song;

I wrote this as your elegy,

but it turned out all wrong.

I am the tail end of the thread,

The one the scissors always cut;

Begging you to watch me as I bled,

Watching as your eyes against me shut.

I am the tears in your eyes,

A pain in your heart you can't define;

Threatening to destroy the prize,

Just as your stars begin to align.

I am the thorn on the rose,

The interruption of your perfect story;

You fear that I the hate disclose,

But you have made this family gory.

I am the imperfect child,

The one you claim doesn't exist,

I always wished you'd be more mild,

Didn't even need to be in your midst.

I am the stranger in the family frame,

The one with the bruises and fake smile,

Ruining the image of the family name,

Holding back tears all the while.

I am me, though you don't know,

Alone in this world now, thanks to you;

Refusing to let you cause more woe,

I am the firstborn child of two.

I take my place now, in the world,

You are behind me now, forever,

Myself as me is finally unfurled

My ties with you, I now sever.