it's gettig colder

Dear Stepfather

I feel so deeply that absolutely nothing is seen because we're all on a fucking stage. 
Don't tell me to listen to and live your scripted perception of myself. You're the big hand that held my little one when I was eight years old.  You're the big voice that initiated mine.  You're the solid I put my feet on, you were the solid I walked a path along but these little hands are letting go, these feet are walking away. I'm thinking it over. I'm thinking it's over.  I've grown up. I've lent and I've learnt but I'm thinking with my head and heart and not blinded by the lights and the pull of your ways. My blood is becoming more apparently less like yours.  My inner workings are constantly battling your outer actions. The days are fractured and the moments are obstructed by the difference. And that's what it comes down to, the complete insufficiency of understanding.  I'm not eight years old and I won't be told to listen because we're not the same.  

Sincerely
Roxanne