I am from scattered I love you’s and sometimes hugs
To frequent cursing and steady neglect
I am from a scruffy man who smells like whiskey and drugs
Where name calling “twit’ and “brat” are his least offense
leaving boo-boo’s and ouch’s on a too-young heart.
I am from the mother’s adage:
Always buy quality;
never settle for less;
you don’t need a man;
I’ll give you a reason to cry
I am from no ma’am, yes ma’am,
I’ll never do that, I’ll always do this
Yes ma’am, yes ma’am, yes ma’am
I am from bullies and teasing and make-good threats
To empty swing sets, lonely lunches, and night-time sobs.
To the inheritance of silent screams from another splintered mind.
I am from sharpened razors, the uncle’s whiskey, and swallow-me pills,
From trying desperately to forget
To no longer being able to remember
I am from self-deprecating thoughts and hope run dry
To hearing voices tunneling through the echoes of my mind.
To a steady stream of you’ll never be close to good enough
I am from failures and mistakes and
what was I thinking
To I’ll try again just in case
To listening to the one who is slowly teaching me
I am so much more than where I am from.
Don't miss out!
Subscribe to get our latest content by email.