Two halves of a family,
Things can become as torn as they are worded.
Through longing and disappointment,
I would never want any of them to be unhappy.
Through the half that makes me feel at home,
Through the warmth and smell of that home,
Through the sarcasm and laughs that are given,
Through the support and love that is shown,
This half makes me feel that this is my family.
And as we have our problems,
We get through them together.
Through the other half,
It is evil in play.
As there is no motion of activity,
There is still the fun and heart put in,
Without the full expression.
It is a differently felt place.
Formed around pain and lies.
I have the twisted version of cinderella.
As I live and breath in that place,
I have the most amazing step siblings.
As the step mother remains evil,
To her fullest extent of insanity.
Though my father is cloaked in deceit,
For what he could be living.
The dynamics that define my families,
Are their seperate personalities.
They are foremost indifferent all around.
I love them all perhaps just the same.
And I wouldn't want to go a day in life,
Without any of them.
That is how I know they are family.