Title undecided, just like me.

Family.
A canker sore on the lip
of my life…

Blood is relative.
Loyalty the truer test.
Don’t be late for dinner.
Main course of cruelty to digest.

Straight home from school.
No hugs or loving greetings.
It’s metal coat hanger day.
Commence the daily beatings.

Take your ass outside so we can drink.
Nothing out here but bullies and whores.
I’d like to kill them all I think.
 Burn their bodies and make some s’mores.

So much for family ties.
The ropes are in the basement.
By the time I was nine years old,
I was moved into foster placement.

In the system for eight long years.
A little good, mostly bad.
Learned to fight, fuck, and face the fears.
A little happy, mostly sad.

Eighteen years old, so time to bounce.
Multiple disorders without a doubt.
Love for family? Not an ounce.
I can never let that hatred out.

Many decades later now.
I’ve survived a halfway life.
Most fears are gone, I’m not sure how,
and I still hold the knife.

A toast I’ll give for the written word.
That has taught me how to feel.
I’ll dance a while within this dream,
for the hell I’ve lived is real.