Poetry competition CLOSED 26th June 2017 4:38am
WINNER
OxyMoronicMe (G.L.)
OxyMoronicMe (G.L.)
Unconditional Familial Hate
Poetry Contest Description
We all have family issues - whether all the time or only occassionally. EIther way, shit happens. So what do you hate about your family?
There are a lot of things we hate about our family. My dad's a controlling bastard and my mum's too sad to stand up for herself. But what about you guys? What have you been desperately trying to get out? What happens in your family?
Rules
- Your own poem
- Personal experiences only (doesn't have to be exactly what happened, poems tend to take on a life of their own once on page!)
- Real emotions - how did/do you feel about it?
- one poem p/p
- no word limit
Rules
- Your own poem
- Personal experiences only (doesn't have to be exactly what happened, poems tend to take on a life of their own once on page!)
- Real emotions - how did/do you feel about it?
- one poem p/p
- no word limit
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Lifeline
Madness in Silence
I didn't know hell until I saw the horror that's been happening inside my family.
Secrets so horrible, I can't bear to speak.
Inside the walls of my so called home, there I see it but blind eyes forbade.
My mind is screaming to shutted ears.
A burden so heavy, how much more can I carry?
Numb to the pain, Ignoring realities, my heart is burning, knowing is sinning
Shhhhhhhh. Don't tell. My silence is golden.
Now I'm slowly chocking. Oh Death, I welcome you.
If only I could escape this...
Invicible Chain
In a cold dark place, endless space,
A stale foul smell of decay hangs in the air.
A sweet taste tempting, disguising the poison within.
It's a murder but more like suicide disguising.
I know it's rotting but I go on consuming.
Letting my soul be taken until there is nothing.
Hope? He is there somewhere.
I will be waiting. Come break this invisible chain.
My lifeline slowly fading. Hurry, my soul is screaming
As despair eats me away, I hope to...
Breakaway
A kiss of death aroused those living in the pit of hell,
Where fire burns the tortured souls and wounded hearts seeks no reprieve.
Death comes knocking on our door. I am calmly waiting, my heart is at ease.
Finally a reprieve from the meager life that is full of lies.
I closed my eyes and opened my arms.My hand reached out to speed up the touch.
My arousal spiked for the kiss of death and darkness' embrace.
Instead a light beamed and with a swift slashed, It brakes the invisible chain!
Then my choking stopped and my breathing comes back.
I found my voice hoarse and cracked, like a melody worth a million bucks.
My eyes were blurred and veiled by tears that flows, without grief nor sore.
He is gone, I am free. I am sorry, but I am happy.
Hope comes glimmering and finally I can start dreaming...
My life begins again from now on...
Resurrection
YES, NOW EVERYTHING IS O'K. It's finally over, HE IS DEAD, I am free.
Free from the chains that bind me, forcing my silence, blindfolding me.
Yes, Now it's O'K. My Lifeline... Resurrection...
A new beginning...
-P.002.S.2016-
Published February 17, 2016@deepundergroundpoetry
I didn't know hell until I saw the horror that's been happening inside my family.
Secrets so horrible, I can't bear to speak.
Inside the walls of my so called home, there I see it but blind eyes forbade.
My mind is screaming to shutted ears.
A burden so heavy, how much more can I carry?
Numb to the pain, Ignoring realities, my heart is burning, knowing is sinning
Shhhhhhhh. Don't tell. My silence is golden.
Now I'm slowly chocking. Oh Death, I welcome you.
If only I could escape this...
Invicible Chain
In a cold dark place, endless space,
A stale foul smell of decay hangs in the air.
A sweet taste tempting, disguising the poison within.
It's a murder but more like suicide disguising.
I know it's rotting but I go on consuming.
Letting my soul be taken until there is nothing.
Hope? He is there somewhere.
I will be waiting. Come break this invisible chain.
My lifeline slowly fading. Hurry, my soul is screaming
As despair eats me away, I hope to...
Breakaway
A kiss of death aroused those living in the pit of hell,
Where fire burns the tortured souls and wounded hearts seeks no reprieve.
Death comes knocking on our door. I am calmly waiting, my heart is at ease.
Finally a reprieve from the meager life that is full of lies.
I closed my eyes and opened my arms.My hand reached out to speed up the touch.
My arousal spiked for the kiss of death and darkness' embrace.
Instead a light beamed and with a swift slashed, It brakes the invisible chain!
Then my choking stopped and my breathing comes back.
I found my voice hoarse and cracked, like a melody worth a million bucks.
My eyes were blurred and veiled by tears that flows, without grief nor sore.
He is gone, I am free. I am sorry, but I am happy.
Hope comes glimmering and finally I can start dreaming...
My life begins again from now on...
Resurrection
YES, NOW EVERYTHING IS O'K. It's finally over, HE IS DEAD, I am free.
Free from the chains that bind me, forcing my silence, blindfolding me.
Yes, Now it's O'K. My Lifeline... Resurrection...
A new beginning...
-P.002.S.2016-
Published February 17, 2016@deepundergroundpoetry
Written by OxyMoronicMe
(G.L.)
Go To Page
My Family
love was as rare as a bug
planting flowers
or painting walls
words were spoken
for truth and care
never endearments
dad stressed his commands
with his fists
and feet
mom kept quiet
until her kids were hit
then she screamed a blue fit
my brothers played outside
till dusk
they got beaten
i stole a banana
and was hit
to nothingness
grown we are now
and gone they are
to the netherworld
but we will always remember
our family...of mom and dad
and nine kids
and how we grew up
on the straight and narrow
with dad's guiding fists.
love was as rare as a bug
planting flowers
or painting walls
words were spoken
for truth and care
never endearments
dad stressed his commands
with his fists
and feet
mom kept quiet
until her kids were hit
then she screamed a blue fit
my brothers played outside
till dusk
they got beaten
i stole a banana
and was hit
to nothingness
grown we are now
and gone they are
to the netherworld
but we will always remember
our family...of mom and dad
and nine kids
and how we grew up
on the straight and narrow
with dad's guiding fists.
ODE TO MY BABY BROTHER
I’m weary of your anger
I’m tired of your lament
Offended by everyone
No one escapes your judgment
You’ve grown into a cynic
With a dark depressing soul
Once you were a baby
Whose mother loved you so
Your heart has become so hard
Your mind is so shallow
I must move away
From the darkness of your shadow
I’m weary of your anger
I’m tired of your lament
Offended by everyone
No one escapes your judgment
You’ve grown into a cynic
With a dark depressing soul
Once you were a baby
Whose mother loved you so
Your heart has become so hard
Your mind is so shallow
I must move away
From the darkness of your shadow
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Remains
The first thing I remember about you was your droning baritone voice
checkered shirts Maggi vegetable soup and a massive milk white arm
a hard metal working distant boss you said I wasn't like other boys
and I wasn't and everyone understood that it would cause you alarm
You resented seeing your own ego in me like it was a cheap imitation
that was probably because I was sensitive and that didn't compute
and even though I miss you so there remains this gnawing irritation
of course I love you father I wish we could have settled our dispute
Our best times were strategically located on your stomping ground
pulling fish from the waters sleeping in a bag a stiff drink before sleep
then you were enthusiastic and cheerful and pleasant to be around
eating grilled lamb laughing planning those are the moments to keep
I have to be fair you mellowed with age but I remained fiery and wild
you were dutiful and I counted on you and I was a big pain in the rear
and so you persisted in talking me down and treating me like a child
see what I mean when I recalled the smiles they morphed into a tear
The first thing I remember about you was your droning baritone voice
checkered shirts Maggi vegetable soup and a massive milk white arm
a hard metal working distant boss you said I wasn't like other boys
and I wasn't and everyone understood that it would cause you alarm
You resented seeing your own ego in me like it was a cheap imitation
that was probably because I was sensitive and that didn't compute
and even though I miss you so there remains this gnawing irritation
of course I love you father I wish we could have settled our dispute
Our best times were strategically located on your stomping ground
pulling fish from the waters sleeping in a bag a stiff drink before sleep
then you were enthusiastic and cheerful and pleasant to be around
eating grilled lamb laughing planning those are the moments to keep
I have to be fair you mellowed with age but I remained fiery and wild
you were dutiful and I counted on you and I was a big pain in the rear
and so you persisted in talking me down and treating me like a child
see what I mean when I recalled the smiles they morphed into a tear
the unknown seven
i've just found out
it turns out
i have seven
brothers and sisters
and the one
who dropped me out
and walked away
still lives
glad i wasn't aborted -
was given away for life
but still...
where the hell has she been?
and do the other seven
know of me?
052917
Written by iowahuman
Go To Page
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
What No One Tells You About Going Home
You've been living alone for too long.
Becoming your own man.
Dad just quit his job.
Not that you will understand.
Your brother and he.
From the airport, they pick you up.
You can tell they don't talk.
Not that you give a fuck.
You ask yourself why
You were excited at all.
Who did you come home to meet,
After all?
Mom? But she's not here.
She's far away.
She's found freedom.
And she's happy that way.
You actually don't like
Your father very much.
You remember how he would
Never listen to mom, and such.
There are happy memories too.
You try to recall.
But they only torment now.
Do nothing positive at all.
Second cigarette of the hour.
He's still at twenty a day.
You wonder what else,
Went to shit while you were away.
"Your relationship with your brother",
You answer yourself.
He's as tall as you now,
But you don't know him as well.
The car ride is awkward.
Home offers no respite.
You remember how small your house is.
Where the fuck am I supposed to work at night?
All this, because
Your father is lazy.
Religion made him so, and he
drives your mother crazy.
Existential man.
Not in the least bit interested
In the life that there is.
Only in that of the rested.
The days are long and boring.
You are uncomfortable here.
The magic of the city,
Is completely undone here.
You've been living alone for too long.
The house is too loud now.
You even go hungry because
Asking for food feels horrible, somehow.
You get nothing done.
Your routine goes to shit.
Frustration builds up,
And there is nothing you can hit.
Your father DOES NOT GET IT.
He talks about the soul.
Dad, ask me how I'm doing?
Ask me about my goals?
Existential man.
Not in the least bit interested,
In my life as it is now.
Only in how I *should* live.
You want to ask him to shut up.
But he's weak right now.
Those tormenting memories
Need you to be strong anyhow.
So you listen as your life is put on hold.
You're trapped, you feel.
You never felt like working out
Because work was never complete.
And now you're fat.
And you feel like shit.
Only three weeks here,
But you're such a misfit.
Mom comes back.
She's in a zone of her own.
Dragging you to places.
And relatives you disown.
Mom, you too?
This is absolutely insane.
You can't wait to go back,
Wondering why you ever came.
Becoming your own man.
Dad just quit his job.
Not that you will understand.
Your brother and he.
From the airport, they pick you up.
You can tell they don't talk.
Not that you give a fuck.
You ask yourself why
You were excited at all.
Who did you come home to meet,
After all?
Mom? But she's not here.
She's far away.
She's found freedom.
And she's happy that way.
You actually don't like
Your father very much.
You remember how he would
Never listen to mom, and such.
There are happy memories too.
You try to recall.
But they only torment now.
Do nothing positive at all.
Second cigarette of the hour.
He's still at twenty a day.
You wonder what else,
Went to shit while you were away.
"Your relationship with your brother",
You answer yourself.
He's as tall as you now,
But you don't know him as well.
The car ride is awkward.
Home offers no respite.
You remember how small your house is.
Where the fuck am I supposed to work at night?
All this, because
Your father is lazy.
Religion made him so, and he
drives your mother crazy.
Existential man.
Not in the least bit interested
In the life that there is.
Only in that of the rested.
The days are long and boring.
You are uncomfortable here.
The magic of the city,
Is completely undone here.
You've been living alone for too long.
The house is too loud now.
You even go hungry because
Asking for food feels horrible, somehow.
You get nothing done.
Your routine goes to shit.
Frustration builds up,
And there is nothing you can hit.
Your father DOES NOT GET IT.
He talks about the soul.
Dad, ask me how I'm doing?
Ask me about my goals?
Existential man.
Not in the least bit interested,
In my life as it is now.
Only in how I *should* live.
You want to ask him to shut up.
But he's weak right now.
Those tormenting memories
Need you to be strong anyhow.
So you listen as your life is put on hold.
You're trapped, you feel.
You never felt like working out
Because work was never complete.
And now you're fat.
And you feel like shit.
Only three weeks here,
But you're such a misfit.
Mom comes back.
She's in a zone of her own.
Dragging you to places.
And relatives you disown.
Mom, you too?
This is absolutely insane.
You can't wait to go back,
Wondering why you ever came.
Written by Rex_WhoHeUsedToBe
Go To Page
Family
Family is a word used as an excuse for evil
Family should love you more than non-family
Yet family will do worse to you than strangers
Don’t fear the stranger, fear your family members
Fathers who beat for reasons or no real reasons
Fathers who beat for pleasure and their gratification
Fathers who sexually abuse without fear of conviction
Fathers who torture, cold baths and cigarettes on skin
Fathers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Mothers who are never there to assist or protect you
Mothers who beat with a leather strap or wooden spoon
Mothers who know what’s happening and pretend it isn’t
Mothers who take their husbands side on sexual abuse
Mothers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Brothers and sisters who snitch ensuring yet another beating
Brothers and sisters who lie about you and watch your beating
Brothers and sisters that abandon you to your horrible fate
Brothers and sisters that are in training to be fathers and mothers
Aunties that slap you full bore in the face for being disrespectful
Uncles who touch you exactly where they know they shouldn’t
Cousins who laugh at your life, theirs being much better
A nephew that committed suicide living the same life as me
A niece that offered me sex because she was fuckin bored
Family is to be feared
Family is to be hated
Family has to be killed
Lock and load
Family is a word used as an excuse for evil
Family should love you more than non-family
Yet family will do worse to you than strangers
Don’t fear the stranger, fear your family members
Fathers who beat for reasons or no real reasons
Fathers who beat for pleasure and their gratification
Fathers who sexually abuse without fear of conviction
Fathers who torture, cold baths and cigarettes on skin
Fathers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Mothers who are never there to assist or protect you
Mothers who beat with a leather strap or wooden spoon
Mothers who know what’s happening and pretend it isn’t
Mothers who take their husbands side on sexual abuse
Mothers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Brothers and sisters who snitch ensuring yet another beating
Brothers and sisters who lie about you and watch your beating
Brothers and sisters that abandon you to your horrible fate
Brothers and sisters that are in training to be fathers and mothers
Aunties that slap you full bore in the face for being disrespectful
Uncles who touch you exactly where they know they shouldn’t
Cousins who laugh at your life, theirs being much better
A nephew that committed suicide living the same life as me
A niece that offered me sex because she was fuckin bored
Family is to be feared
Family is to be hated
Family has to be killed
Lock and load
David_Macleod said:Family
Family is a word used as an excuse for evil
Family should love you more than non-family
Yet family will do worse to you than strangers
Don’t fear the stranger, fear your family members
Fathers who beat for reasons or no real reasons
Fathers who beat for pleasure and their gratification
Fathers who sexually abuse without fear of conviction
Fathers who torture, cold baths and cigarettes on skin
Fathers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Mothers who are never there to assist or protect you
Mothers who beat with a leather strap or wooden spoon
Mothers who know what’s happening and pretend it isn’t
Mothers who take their husbands side on sexual abuse
Mothers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Brothers and sisters who snitch ensuring yet another beating
Brothers and sisters who lie about you and watch your beating
Brothers and sisters that abandon you to your horrible fate
Brothers and sisters that are in training to be fathers and mothers
Aunties that slap you full bore in the face for being disrespectful
Uncles who touch you exactly where they know they shouldn’t
Cousins who laugh at your life, theirs being much better
A nephew that committed suicide living the same life as me
A niece that offered me sex because she was fuckin bored
Family is to be feared
Family is to be hated
Family has to be killed
Lock and load
DAYUM! I Feel ya David, Wow!
Family is a word used as an excuse for evil
Family should love you more than non-family
Yet family will do worse to you than strangers
Don’t fear the stranger, fear your family members
Fathers who beat for reasons or no real reasons
Fathers who beat for pleasure and their gratification
Fathers who sexually abuse without fear of conviction
Fathers who torture, cold baths and cigarettes on skin
Fathers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Mothers who are never there to assist or protect you
Mothers who beat with a leather strap or wooden spoon
Mothers who know what’s happening and pretend it isn’t
Mothers who take their husbands side on sexual abuse
Mothers who hate because you are not the son they wanted
Brothers and sisters who snitch ensuring yet another beating
Brothers and sisters who lie about you and watch your beating
Brothers and sisters that abandon you to your horrible fate
Brothers and sisters that are in training to be fathers and mothers
Aunties that slap you full bore in the face for being disrespectful
Uncles who touch you exactly where they know they shouldn’t
Cousins who laugh at your life, theirs being much better
A nephew that committed suicide living the same life as me
A niece that offered me sex because she was fuckin bored
Family is to be feared
Family is to be hated
Family has to be killed
Lock and load
DAYUM! I Feel ya David, Wow!
My Promise
She told me:
“One day you won’t need me,
you won’t want me around.
You will want to be with friends.”
I said:
“No, Mommy— You’re my best friend.”
So for the rest of my life
I was spent—
Trying
Clinging
Kicking
Screaming
Holding on to that promise I made.
When Daddy trashed the house.
I wiped her tears and held her face.
When we had to run away;
I always went with her, never tried to stay.
I was her keychain attached at the hip-- The backpack.
Massachusetts, New York, Connecticut, Florida and back.
I will go—
I will fly—
She’s my mom and I’m her little sunshine.
And late at night, she would tell me:
“You’re my number one.
I’m doing this all for you.
So we can have a better life.
I’ll get us a family.
I’ll make everything right.”
And I believed her.
Stars in my eyes.
Wishes in my heart.
And she would go out.
New job—
New boyfriend—
And she’d become a new person
Morph and change
Jekyll to Hyde.
And I would adjust and adapt.
Little chameleon trying to hide from new predator attacks.
And the lines blur and overlap.
And reality would distort.
They say:
“Divorce is normal—”
“Moving is a part of life—”
“Don’t you want your mom to be happy?”
"Swallow your selfish pride.”
And I would nod and say okay.
Because that is how the abused are trained.
“Ungrateful daughter—”
“How could you say those things?”
Laying awake.
Wishing to die.
The bad daughter who never left her mother’s side.
I was twelve years old.
The bruises hade begun to fade
But the scars remain.
I got out of the cage
And thrown into the wild.
All alone.
Lost girl.
Nowhere to call home.
She left me.
Days turned to weeks
Weeks turned to months.
Spring ended
Summer came and went.
It felt like she died.
But she would call me and gloat
New job—
New car—
New boyfriend—
New life—
And his child replaced me.
Broken—
Unwanted—
Mentally diseased—
Stupid—
Basket case—
My mother was free.
I turned 13.
And there was a battle.
Mother and father fighting over me.
And I chose her.
Why? Why? Why?
What had she done?
Left me for six months?
I was conditioned for her to always win.
There were broken coffee tables.
And ripped posters.
Books without pages.
And more bruises and cruel banter.
There were evil eyes staring me down
Eat everything on your plate
Or it will be against the wall.
And even though she knew it was wrong.
She made us go back.
Not once but twice.
I told her the second time.
I finally found my voice.
“If he comes back I will hate you.”
She did it anyway.
My threats falling off ears turned deaf.
Her eyes gone blind.
And a memory stands out—
Door slamming open
And him yelling:
“Your mother’s leaving you.
And she isn’t coming back.”
They had an argument.
She needed to cool off.
So she left me, asleep.
With him whom hated my guts.
And every time I tried to go away.
Through blood and razor blades.
Or attempted escape and running away.
I always had to go back home.
No one could save me.
My friends—
My father—
Even the Crisis at the hospital—
“Listen to your mother and stepfather.”
“Stop acting out.”
"Your parents no what’s best for you.”
The word abuse is defined by split lips and bruises.
Not defiance and rebellious actions.
I was not being abused.
There was something wrong with me.
I was the bad daughter.
The evil spawn.
Otherwise why would she let this happen?
I was fifteen when it ended.
But did the pain stop?
She continue games with my mind.
I was a bad child who hated myself.
And my mother was a victim in a victimless crime.
My fists became my only way to get my pain across.
Maybe walking around with a bruise will make you feel like I felt.
When my heart was ripped open.
My hope lost somewhere between then and now.
All those states and places.
All those houses and faces.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
I fell for people I would never be good enough for.
A guy who wouldn’t pick up a phone.
Like my mother did when she went on dates when I was a kid.
Then a girl who lied and used me.
Turned me into a joke and shell of my former self.
I was her doormat.
Her crutch.
Her crying shoulder.
I gave her everything.
But I was nothing.
It was okay— I was use to it by then.
Every Ophelia becomes a Gertrude in the end
Friends abandoned me.
I let them.
I told my mother she was my best friend.
And even she abandoned me.
I came to accept I was not good enough for anyone.
Even now.
I am 23.
I should know how to take care of myself by now.
But she told me I needed her.
And she needed me.
So I stayed.
Through arguments—
And disagreements—
And failures—
And tragedy—
And she would say:
“One day you won’t need me anymore.“
And I’d shake my head:
“We’ll always need you. We’re family.”
And he would say:
“We have to grow up.
We don’t need her to live with us forever.”
And I would say:
“We’re not ready.
Besides I can’t leave her alone.”
How could I do that?
She was my mother?
I’d be a bad daughter if I left her alone.
The conversations blur.
The world tips sideways.
Everything goes black and white.
As she stops coming home.
And then she visits with a ring on her hand.
And I’m free falling through the sky.
“I won’t move out for a year...” she lies.
I nod and agree.
But don't meet her eyes.
Please, don’t prove me right.
But it’s been months.
Here I sit, writing.
Half losing my mind.
Half wanting to die.
As she blames my boyfriend for the flaws in my life.
As he tries motivating me to get up and try.
But I can’t hear him.
Her words sear my eyes.
The bell jar descends.
He asked me once:
“Did you ever think your mother was abusive?”
I shake my head.
Because no.
Abuse is defined by split lips and black eyes.
Not trying to find us a better life.
But she found hers.
Her happiness is no longer mine.
She dragged me around my entire life.
What is childhood?
But remembering every tear you cried?
Every scar you earned?
Every time you wished you died?
But I drag myself to adulthood.
Broken and bruised
Fucked up and disturbed mind.
Now I can begin my real life.
But things crash and burn.
And obstacles appear.
But you fight and you claw.
Your natural instinct to survive.
Swallow your selfish pride.
We are a family.
We will never leave.
We will never break.
We will make it to the end.
But we didn’t, did we?
I stand on a cliff in the dark corners of my mind.
Looking at all my failures.
My mother has left me far behind.
“Time to grow up—” she texts.
I stare at the words.
They don’t make sense.
She never prepared me.
For this moment in time.
She just left me in the dark.
Too broken and tired to find the light.
She never kept her promise.
Never gave us a better life.
But, on the other hand, I kept mine.
I never, once, left her side.
She told me:
“One day you won’t need me,
you won’t want me around.
You will want to be with friends.”
I said:
“No, Mommy— You’re my best friend.”
So for the rest of my life
I was spent—
Trying
Clinging
Kicking
Screaming
Holding on to that promise I made.
When Daddy trashed the house.
I wiped her tears and held her face.
When we had to run away;
I always went with her, never tried to stay.
I was her keychain attached at the hip-- The backpack.
Massachusetts, New York, Connecticut, Florida and back.
I will go—
I will fly—
She’s my mom and I’m her little sunshine.
And late at night, she would tell me:
“You’re my number one.
I’m doing this all for you.
So we can have a better life.
I’ll get us a family.
I’ll make everything right.”
And I believed her.
Stars in my eyes.
Wishes in my heart.
And she would go out.
New job—
New boyfriend—
And she’d become a new person
Morph and change
Jekyll to Hyde.
And I would adjust and adapt.
Little chameleon trying to hide from new predator attacks.
And the lines blur and overlap.
And reality would distort.
They say:
“Divorce is normal—”
“Moving is a part of life—”
“Don’t you want your mom to be happy?”
"Swallow your selfish pride.”
And I would nod and say okay.
Because that is how the abused are trained.
“Ungrateful daughter—”
“How could you say those things?”
Laying awake.
Wishing to die.
The bad daughter who never left her mother’s side.
I was twelve years old.
The bruises hade begun to fade
But the scars remain.
I got out of the cage
And thrown into the wild.
All alone.
Lost girl.
Nowhere to call home.
She left me.
Days turned to weeks
Weeks turned to months.
Spring ended
Summer came and went.
It felt like she died.
But she would call me and gloat
New job—
New car—
New boyfriend—
New life—
And his child replaced me.
Broken—
Unwanted—
Mentally diseased—
Stupid—
Basket case—
My mother was free.
I turned 13.
And there was a battle.
Mother and father fighting over me.
And I chose her.
Why? Why? Why?
What had she done?
Left me for six months?
I was conditioned for her to always win.
There were broken coffee tables.
And ripped posters.
Books without pages.
And more bruises and cruel banter.
There were evil eyes staring me down
Eat everything on your plate
Or it will be against the wall.
And even though she knew it was wrong.
She made us go back.
Not once but twice.
I told her the second time.
I finally found my voice.
“If he comes back I will hate you.”
She did it anyway.
My threats falling off ears turned deaf.
Her eyes gone blind.
And a memory stands out—
Door slamming open
And him yelling:
“Your mother’s leaving you.
And she isn’t coming back.”
They had an argument.
She needed to cool off.
So she left me, asleep.
With him whom hated my guts.
And every time I tried to go away.
Through blood and razor blades.
Or attempted escape and running away.
I always had to go back home.
No one could save me.
My friends—
My father—
Even the Crisis at the hospital—
“Listen to your mother and stepfather.”
“Stop acting out.”
"Your parents no what’s best for you.”
The word abuse is defined by split lips and bruises.
Not defiance and rebellious actions.
I was not being abused.
There was something wrong with me.
I was the bad daughter.
The evil spawn.
Otherwise why would she let this happen?
I was fifteen when it ended.
But did the pain stop?
She continue games with my mind.
I was a bad child who hated myself.
And my mother was a victim in a victimless crime.
My fists became my only way to get my pain across.
Maybe walking around with a bruise will make you feel like I felt.
When my heart was ripped open.
My hope lost somewhere between then and now.
All those states and places.
All those houses and faces.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
I fell for people I would never be good enough for.
A guy who wouldn’t pick up a phone.
Like my mother did when she went on dates when I was a kid.
Then a girl who lied and used me.
Turned me into a joke and shell of my former self.
I was her doormat.
Her crutch.
Her crying shoulder.
I gave her everything.
But I was nothing.
It was okay— I was use to it by then.
Every Ophelia becomes a Gertrude in the end
Friends abandoned me.
I let them.
I told my mother she was my best friend.
And even she abandoned me.
I came to accept I was not good enough for anyone.
Even now.
I am 23.
I should know how to take care of myself by now.
But she told me I needed her.
And she needed me.
So I stayed.
Through arguments—
And disagreements—
And failures—
And tragedy—
And she would say:
“One day you won’t need me anymore.“
And I’d shake my head:
“We’ll always need you. We’re family.”
And he would say:
“We have to grow up.
We don’t need her to live with us forever.”
And I would say:
“We’re not ready.
Besides I can’t leave her alone.”
How could I do that?
She was my mother?
I’d be a bad daughter if I left her alone.
The conversations blur.
The world tips sideways.
Everything goes black and white.
As she stops coming home.
And then she visits with a ring on her hand.
And I’m free falling through the sky.
“I won’t move out for a year...” she lies.
I nod and agree.
But don't meet her eyes.
Please, don’t prove me right.
But it’s been months.
Here I sit, writing.
Half losing my mind.
Half wanting to die.
As she blames my boyfriend for the flaws in my life.
As he tries motivating me to get up and try.
But I can’t hear him.
Her words sear my eyes.
The bell jar descends.
He asked me once:
“Did you ever think your mother was abusive?”
I shake my head.
Because no.
Abuse is defined by split lips and black eyes.
Not trying to find us a better life.
But she found hers.
Her happiness is no longer mine.
She dragged me around my entire life.
What is childhood?
But remembering every tear you cried?
Every scar you earned?
Every time you wished you died?
But I drag myself to adulthood.
Broken and bruised
Fucked up and disturbed mind.
Now I can begin my real life.
But things crash and burn.
And obstacles appear.
But you fight and you claw.
Your natural instinct to survive.
Swallow your selfish pride.
We are a family.
We will never leave.
We will never break.
We will make it to the end.
But we didn’t, did we?
I stand on a cliff in the dark corners of my mind.
Looking at all my failures.
My mother has left me far behind.
“Time to grow up—” she texts.
I stare at the words.
They don’t make sense.
She never prepared me.
For this moment in time.
She just left me in the dark.
Too broken and tired to find the light.
She never kept her promise.
Never gave us a better life.
But, on the other hand, I kept mine.
I never, once, left her side.
werbepause ~ {xiii}
my confessions lay
bundled in her arms,
the blood stain
on the sheet
carefully centered
& concealed;
she was a
domestic artiste,
soaking the smear
before washing
& washing
& washing truth
from the fibers ~
... i could not
cogitate the pain
could not put words
to the invasion
so the filaments spoke,
muffled between
hand & breast,
but she was deaf
& he never
closed the door
.
.
.
i was
her disappointment
//
my confessions lay
bundled in her arms,
the blood stain
on the sheet
carefully centered
& concealed;
she was a
domestic artiste,
soaking the smear
before washing
& washing
& washing truth
from the fibers ~
... i could not
cogitate the pain
could not put words
to the invasion
so the filaments spoke,
muffled between
hand & breast,
but she was deaf
& he never
closed the door
.
.
.
i was
her disappointment
//
