TheStrugglesGrowingUp
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I remember the breeze blowing through the trees, blowing from the east, to the west,
we called it "fresh". The beaches would call out my name, it was the same way, everyday.
mommy and daddy started yelling
they banished me and my sister to our room
we cover ouur ears to mask the shouts
we hope this will all end soon
the cops got caled again
two or three inside my house
And now here I am.
Struggling to connect to a place.
A place my parents called home,
In this foreign land.
I watch a man bathe himself on the sidewalk,
Accusations follow her in greeting
bearing witness to a tainted art
Sanctimonious companionship
Unbalanced and unstable,
she falls without arms.
Ink is bleeding deep
Blossoming stains
I write to release the anger and anguish of a childhood lost. I write to tell the story of becoming a mother and father to a baby brother at the age of thirteen.
Background: I wrote this during a time where I was hurt, confused and lost. Each stanza just came to me. It wasn’t until I finish writing and read over it that I know what I was writing about.