Dear Mrs. Hirsch, you make me want to puke.


You tell me my problems aren't legit.
But as a guidance counselor, shouldn't you give a bit more of a shit?

Instead of speaking to me in that vile, condescending tone;
I would really like for you to leave me the hell alone.

It is none of your business why I am so depressed.
Or stressed, a bloody fucking mess.

But if you really need to know;
I have an arm covered in scars to show.

If I told you my past, maybe I'd earn some respect.
When I was nine my father pressed himself against me while he was erect.

He used to suffocate me until I cried too.
Is any of this getting through to you?

I walked in on him raping my mother.
Exactly how fast do you expect me to recover?

My childhood was a lie.
I'm surprised that I'm still alive.

I've attempted to commit suicide three times.
Within the past 3 years.
And you have the nerve to tell me that I am crying fake tears?

You don't know the first thing about me!
You ignorant cow.

Now may I PLEASE, be excused from school now?

I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.
And every time you talk to me, it's like you add another boulder.

You are adding on to my stress.
And I am failing all of my classes for mourning a death!?

He died right there, on my couch.
I'm so young, with too much to figure out.

You are concerned about my future.
And I am concerned whether or not I'll make it there.

You consider me a lesser being because I am younger than you.
But age is bullshit, it's all in what you've been through.

Don't you dare judge me until you have walked in these shoes.
Until then, I don't want to hear one more fucking judgmental thing from you.

Dear Mrs. Hirsch, you make me want to puke.

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Ruth Lovejoy's picture

I think you and your mom should talk to this counselor one on one and put on the table what you put here. It would give her a wake up call..