01/09/2026
Enough said!!
They said blood makes you family—
funny how mine learned to bleed me dry,
picked me up just to toss me out,
called it love, called it “trying,”
while sharpening lies behind my back
and smiling straight into my eyes.
I was the lesson they never learned,
the truth they didn’t want to hear,
the storm they kept provoking
then blamed when I stood right here.
Gaslit till my memory flickered,
slandered till my name felt strange,
told I was “too much,” “too broken,”
like survival was something to be ashamed.
But listen—
you don’t forge a fighter with comfort,
you don’t build a spine with praise,
you don’t create a fu***ng warrior
by giving them easy days.
You made me doubt my heartbeat,
so I learned to trust my scars.
You taught me love was conditional,
so I learned to love my flaws.
I became fluent in silence,
learned peace in walking away,
learned that family isn’t blood
if it poisons you every day.
I am the black sheep you underestimated,
the misfit you couldn’t control,
the one you tried to shrink and soften
but only sharpened my soul.
I am every night I cried alone,
every joint smoked just to breathe,
every prayer whispered to the universe
when nobody believed in me.
And yeah, I was forgotten—
pushed aside, erased, dismissed,
but forgotten seeds grow wild as hell
when left alone like this.
Now I stand rooted, unshaken,
grown from neglect and pain,
while you choke on the echoes
of the lies you couldn’t maintain.
Because here’s the truth you hate the most:
I didn’t break, I evolved.
Every wound you handed me
got faced, healed, and resolved.
I found my soul tribe in the ashes,
found family in shared scars,
found home in the ones who saw me
and never tried to dim my stars.
So if you feel my presence louder now,
if my peace feels like your loss,
that’s just karma clearing her throat
and reminding you of the cost.
You made me a fighter—
not by love, but by neglect.
Not by support, but betrayal,
not by truth, but disrespect.
And I don’t need your remorse,
your excuses, or your regret—
I already won the moment
I became who you couldn’t forget.
We are the forgotten.
We are the black sheep, the brave.
We are the ones who survived the fire
and came back self-made.
Soul tribe—this is our anthem,
smoked in pain, sealed in flame.
They tried to bury us quietly,
but we rose screaming our names. 🔥🖕❤️🔥
©️ Innapropriate Rantings Of A Lunatic
