I sit, watching, waiting.
Waiting to see what you do.
Almost always heated with a strict tone.
Waiting to take it all in.

Absorbing all of the anger.
Stress building up inside.
Pain beginning, body aching.
Waiting for the outburst.

You so blinded.
Not seeing how your mood affects others.
Not noticing how it affects my life.
Waiting for you to wake up.

Growing up with you blowing up with rage unexpectedly.
Screaming I hate you at the top of my lungs, when younger.
Knowing more yelling will come.
Waiting for those stressful days I will burst out, just like you.

Unleashing my irritation on you and others.
Sitting back fine one moment, then explode the minute something or someone presses my buttons.
Waiting, for when I see friends get more distant.
Living and waiting for that moment or moments.

Wishing you could open your eyes and see what you are doing to me.
Hoping it will end.
Wishing I would never end up like you.
But it is too late.
I have grown to be just like you.