Poems

My Life In Monochrome

It was mother's choice to marry you.
I can't believe you listened to young me,
Telling you that you needed to.

I love my mother, and used to love you.
And when you said she made me hate you,
that wasn't even close to true.
What I hate is every single thing you said.
You made me hate the life I live.
Made me wish that I was dead.
I hated my own life, I still do.
And you made me hate my body.
I despise everything important to me.

I strive so hard to be nothing like you.
I will refuse to smoke, to drink,
and I will ALWAYS choose to think.
I will be nothing like you.
I will not create a family,
That has to deal with domestic abuse.

Smashed in walls, bruised with reminders,
of all of my childhood.
A manifold of angry slurs,
My childhood was mostly a blur. 
Angry, drunken brawls
over petty tidbits, with stupid cause.
Thrown, boxed-up angels, burning documents,
Mattresses pulled from their frames.
This was where the end started.

My mother crying and bleeding.
My voice was raw from screaming,
I was so glad when you were gone,
And that brother never left his room,
Ready to throw the first punch.

But when you left,
Mother, brother, and I,
We met in the livingroom,
Putting back the pieces.
One step at a time.
With red eyes,
I tried not to cry,
When I looked at the mess,
You left in your wake.

Streams of tears and passing years.
Emotional scars and cuts like stars.
You are selfish.
You are foolish.
You caused this burning hatred.

We remember everything you did,
You ruined me in the very end.
When you hurt me, I was young.
I can't believe, I was once naive.
And yet you ruined everything for me.
I can't think, I can't sleep.
I have a panic attack when I see a text,
from you on my phone screen.

Depression, anxiety,
symptoms of PTSD,
Bring it on! I've got a lot of them!
Those pesky little mood disorders,
All reminders of my childhood.

Broken homes, alcohol, cigarettes,
Can't it all just end yet?
I'm tired of the same old things,
The black, silver, and grey of my life.
The dreary, gruesome, tiring things.

I beg and pray that,
Before I have to end it myself,
You will disappear into oblivion.
Can't you just leave me alone,
Father?