Beer bottles under my bed

Mon, 05/29/2017 - 01:36 -- naila.a

Hey, remember when my brother died.
Yeah, bet you don’t.
Funny thing is, you were the one that spoke those words
He slit his throat,
when I heard the news, I looked at my brother as he stood next to me in shock
Not because anyone died,
but because how could you,
how could those words come out of your mouth.

We used to hide bottles under my bed, in the cabinets, in the places of your mind.
You never look in there.
you were honestly too drunk to care.
You promised me you would never lie, I believed it for 13 years
I was too stupid to not see the
Scar on her face or the way my brothers dreaded coming home.
I never saw it, I was blind from it all Because I,
still loved you then.
we locked ourselves in our rooms. Too afraid, too angry to open that door.
You didn't care
You say you regret the hell you put us through but
You didn't do anything to fix the mess you made.
Now, we are screwed up as ever
because you could never put down that bottle.
You, should never have had the title of being called my father.

This poem is about: 
My family


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