It’s 2003 and I had just been born

Of course my young parents were torn,

Dear mother wanted to keep me,

And father… didn’t
He Couldn’t

Wouldn’t

And Shouldn’t

Dear daddy threw me out with the old meat,

And he became a deadbeat.

 

Its 2006 and it’s been me and my mom for three years,

There’s been tears,

But there has been love,

Never would I think I would be betrayed,

And above all she stayed.

Mary jane isn’t as bad as cocaine,

But jail isn’t cheap and we can’t afford bail

Now all my days would be filled with rain,

My once strong willed mother, was now drained.

 

It’s 2006 and I meet my deadbeat,

He makes my fragile heart beat, beat, beat

He makes my eyes weep,

At first his touch is scared and doesn’t go to deep,

 

But then it’s 2008 and my eyes know the sign

I wish I never had to say goodbye,

Now I have a little brother,

And a stepmother,

Any cries from me get smothered,

Hands turn rough and hurtful,

Walking becomes… painful

My butt gets the brunt of it

I can barely sit.

 

Now it’s 2009 and I’m so not fine,

My brother is four and I am six

Thinking about my father makes me sick,

His grease stained hands reach for my pants,

And I try to hold my stance,

I know crying makes it worse,

So I try to rehearse,

When his hand touches my thigh,

I keep my eyes closed.

Tight.

No step mother in sight to help me

I’ll never be free

 

Now it’s 2010 and my father’s getting remarried,

She’s only eleven years older than me,

Which makes her eighteen.

I stamp the vow,

Take a bow,

Throw the flowers,

Bask in the power,

Everyone thinks I’m cute

All the pain feels minute

 

Now it’s 2010 and here we are again,

Something like fire burns brighter,

My father’s calling me a liar,

I tried to make him understand,

He just came down with a hand.

I didn’t flinch or cry,

My eyes stayed dry.

He beat me harder,

My father wasn’t what you’d call a martyr

 

Now it’s 2013 and Carly has fled the scene,

I couldn’t blame her

She was just an amateur

Mary Jane was her cocaine,

Dad’s already moved on,

We’re long gone,

Oklahoma is where it’s at.

 

Skip ahead a little and it’s 2014,

And dad says we’re living the dream,

As it turns out North Dakota was where it’s at,

He still thinks I’m an ungrateful brat,

This new mom has it going on,

She has her own kid though,

But she’s always been on her own.

Peter Pan could fly

Akayla began to cry

When it was done her face was purple,

But all I said was “It’s time for rehearsal,”

Three year olds can’t fly,

So when they try,

Big black eyes.

 

Fast forward and it’s 2015,

Fargo, North Dakota,

I’ve reached the quota

20 schools since grade Pre-K,

The bruises left on my body were like graffiti

On the brick walls of downtown

Telling was never allowed

So I kept my head bowed down.

Now it’s still 2015 and we forgot to conceal,

People keep asking and telling had such a great appeal

Finally, the words flowed out of my chest, through my throat, onto my tongue and through the cracks of my teeth,

“ My dad hit me.”

I was able to breathe,

I left the girl with that harsh reality,

When I was confronted by a man giving

Me the third degree,

I lied for my deadbeat,

Kept his secret life, discrete.

and of course it wasn't neat.

 

Now it's still 2015, yet stay with me!

I've been with my dad since age three to age twelve.

From ages five to twelve were hell

beatings, rapes, sexual assaults. 

No more. Someone rang the liberty bell, 

and all I can tell is this isn't living

if you have a grown man on your chest to prevent your breathing, 

It isn't living if you have the first flames of lust before you can spell your name, 

I wasn't living. 

 

Now it's 2019 and I'm doing great, 

made my two gay moms irate, 

I have boy problems,

More drastic than normal, 

My boundaries became a little informal. 

Chlamydia is a sexual disease, 

that you don't get from just rubbing knees.

Now, I'm living my life and it's quite alright.