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.
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