Apologies and bloodshed- letters to those who will never know.

Dear you guys...  
 
I am sorry I am the daughter  
of the shadows rather than  
the precious gem you hoped  
to parent.  
 
Are parents supposed to  
mess with their kids' heads?  
 
I am fourteen  
I am sitting at a Weatherspoon's  
my father orders a pint  
glares at the waiter who  
looks at me sceptically  
I get my pint too.  
 
Does Stella Artois taste  
better than other beer?  
 
I am fifteen  
the blame is a whip  
lashing  
more times  
   than  
he came inside her  
 
It's her fault  
It's her.. you always  
protect her from the  
world... if she wasn't  
ill, we wouldn't be  
here...  
 
I am now seventeen  
my uncle had just lost  
his battle with cancer  
 
"Why are you so  
miserable, it's not like you  
really loved him anyway.."  
 
That's why I broke the Kütahya  
isn't it? because I felt nothing...  
but then sadness is blue  
and anger is red I merely  
swam in colour..  
 
Dear mother,  
 
It's mother's day  
I am useless.  
Next door, the better  
offspring washes your dishes  
while I rely on dad's cash  
to buy you a present  
because I'm financially pointless.  
 
Do you hate me?  
I hate me too...  
 
S,  
Big brother  
You're a stranger  
we live under the same  
roof and the words  
'How are you'  
feel like poison.  
I light a cigarette,  
because it takes the  
ache away.  
 
Grandmother...  
I wish I knew  
my dad's side more  
I think dad's mum  
would've loved me  
more...  
 
To my paternal grandmother...  
 
Is Pierre Lotte nice?  
I  
rode a  
cable car  
to see you  
from a birdseye view.  
I knew I loved you  
(I was 17)  
 
Mum...  
 
You cried when  
you saw my scars  
You cried when I lied  
about a 'shaving incident'  
the scar on my groin you noticed?  
incidentally was my favourite for years.  
 
Dear Maternal Grand-daddy  
 
I sit by your headstone  
every time I fly to  
your home.  
I tell you about my life  
ask if heaven's nice.  
 
The first time I ever  
visited  
-- having never met you--  
I bawled my  
eyes out so much  
your daughter couldn't cry.  
I took away her right to grieve.  
I am sorry.  
 
Mummy misses you too...  
 
To me,  
Someday, your mother  
your father  
your brother  
will be gone.  
 
You will regret being fourteen  
and blaming them for blaming you  
You will regret being eighteen  
and having the doctor  
put you on pills because  
you want to die.  
 
You do not Deserve his sympathy  
You did not deserve it.  
 
Dear everyone I have failed  
and will fail  
 
I love you all  
I will disintegrate soon  
be gone like the smoke  
of those Rothman's we like  
too much.  
 
----------------------  
 
notes- a 'Kütahya' is the style of intricate hand-made designs on Ottoman ornament plates which they are named after.