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I hate the way my mother looks at me. The look of the “least favorite daughter.”  Most little girls feared monsters under the bed, while I feared the ones over the bottle.
Oh no   Face down again on the floor . Oh no Getting the dry heaves under control . Oh no 
I smell the whiskey on your breath Third day this week Once again you had too much Once again you took too much Why must I love you so much?
a shed full of bottles, some empty, some sparing but a drop of umber syrup for a  thirsty traveler.    pots and pans had long stacked up
You don't know what you're talking about. Stop acting like you're smart. Those statistics are all lies. You can't trust anyone. Stop talking to people. You have to keep it all a secret.
My mentor, my dear mentor, How terrible you have been to me, And yet I must thank you.
Sleeping with a Habit   In the morning we joke and thank the world that there is only one of you.
Dear Dad,   its been years, continuous    I want you to know  You can not baptize yourself in Liquor  That ocean is not holy   I want you to know  Your liver will drown, get sicker
Keep searching for the lyrics of a broken heart But no words can really express the pain that I feel No one will ever understand the life I have lived So I am left here to write this myself.  
I had become accustomed to the monstrous features beneath his surface - The claws that grasped my hands; The cold lips that touched mine; The fire that burned in his eyes.
"It's Not My Fault" That should be your epitaph, You've certainly said it often enough, So everyone knows your life was rough, Excuses you use solely on your behalf, Like "It's Not My Fault!"
Everyone believes your great, They keep on telling me so, Expertly you play the part of their mate, Sweet childishness and humour overflow,
You hurt me, You deceived me, You were rude and unkind believe me, I forgave you, I excused you, I even repeated your lies to protect you, No more!
I wish I had a father that didn't belong to the bottle but was truly mine, Who gave to me security and laughter and was reliably kind, One who asked how my day went and was interested in school,
I'm writing now to a little girl, A little girl sitting lonely rocking on the floor, The little girl inside of me whose hurt eats at me like a Hunger gnaw,
In this house, we eat supper as a family, no elbows on the table, But remember, keep your emotions neutral, that way you won’t be called mentally unstable,
6 torn cardboard walls hold distant memories- hah, more like serrated puzzle pieces with razor sharp edges, stabbing one another yet fitting perfectly - yet willingly accepting the nerve wrenching pain and sudden discoloration of their o
One in three adolescents are victims of cyber bullying. Now I don’t mean to belittle, but i’ve never understand cyber bullying because your eyes are your choice and you can turn away.
Go to your room and turn up your music. You sit alone and you turn up your music until you can’t hear shit. Your stereo will be on full volume, but you can still hear the sound of their teeth shattering on vodka bottles.
Toast to a Park Bench   Everyone sees the alcoholic that is passed out on the same park bench every morning, rain or shine, even though some pretend that they don't.  
Last summer I drank my heart away and my insides became soggy. Sitting against alcohol my 
My teeth gripped the plush bottom of my lip, the nails,
It never made sense til now and the sense I've made makes no sense at all. If I should say the truth I hope it be opaque cause I can't stand myself or the perils left unscathed.  
The last time that I saw you,you were being pulled through the front door by police officers.
I hear the hinges creak, gla
He hurt me daddy
Three little girls, not a care in the world...
  We drive back to your house All smiles and giggles Ice cream and pool time
Little girl lost and alone Won’t pick up the phone Too scared to go back home   The bottles kept stacking up Daddy didn’t you have enough Anger grew, We all knew What he was going to do to you
I'm homeless I'm lonely I'm an alcoholic Considered a stain upon the society Nothing to offer, Except my wastes and the breath exhaled from my lungs I may not have much of anything by my name.
Forget Me Not *controversial*    Morning sickness brings the blues, Monthly cycle is overdue. She was drunk that night, Flinging morals in the wind,
Because it is vulnerable, an option, you might see. Wide out in the open, entire visibility.
Kindness, is it only but a word?  A person who hears people's needs. But oddly, sadly, is never ever heard.
You try your best to see the light. In a blinding sheet of darkness. You ignore and try to forget.
What I Hate Do you know what I absolutely hate? What makes me so sick to my stomach? And my skin crawl with repulsion? I’ll tell you what I hate:
Another day, another way,
I down another bottle To wash the pain away. For a brief moment, I feel a bit okay.
Her eyes were swollen from all the tears That she had cried, For what seemed to be a thousand years Is it going to get better? She questioned her mom But she, too, was feeling excruciatingly numb
thanks again for feeding a child grownwith your acid samplesand gold-flakes. good-to-know there's time after allin the day.
Dark oils paint a weakened body Sprawled out on a messy bed. Depression covered with alcohol Feeling there is no end. Two glasseses and two bottles standing only one remains half-full.
Dear God, Where were you? Sincerely, Daughter of an alcoholic narcissist.   Dear Father, Where were you? Sincerely, Daughter of an alcoholic narcissist   Dear Mother,
Life is tough, so full of problems; look everywhere Pregnant teen girls aborting, drunk drivers crashing Oppressed children, drug addicts, couples breaking Prejudiced against Muslim girls with covered hair
I stop somewhere waiting for you Stop caring, stop hoping it is us you will choose
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