Dead to me

I feel so frustrated,
Like something inside needs to snap,
But I’m holding it in,
I don’t quite know what it is,
It isn’t happiness,
It isn’t sadness,
It is something else,
Perhaps unspent anger,
Or a lament for days past,
Perhaps for the people I’ve lost,
I think it is my hate for my relatives,
And their flaccid amusement,
Their revolting periodical care,
Don’t feign your amusement for my family,
You disgust me with your weak views,
You are all dead to me.