Times were hard from the day of my birth.
I have a father who didn’t know my worth.
While I was being born he stole from my mother. Was high as a kite chilling with his brother.
When I was brought home things were no different, still doing drugs every day, the ones with no prescription.
He beat my mom and put her down. Until finally she put her foot down.
Once he was left he was gone forever. No cards in the mail, no calls, and no letters.
Then my mom she thought she could save me from the pain, move me up north to the constitution state.
Unfortunately the devil was still inside. The man she called her was a demon in disguise. His affection wasn’t the least bit consensual. Still a 3-year-old girl I became a victim.
Then things seemed to be getting better. We got away from that man, we escaped the devil.
We had a new home with a step dad and my new little brother.
But it all fell apart one step at a time.
Loud arguments ensued. There were so many lies.
At nine I was uprooted, my whole life was rebooted and I had to move to the hell of the U.S. where a giant mouse rules and Shamoo is trapped in a pool.
I was pushed around because I was new and chubby. They made me think “how could anyone love me”
They out casted me and made me hate myself. I lost the confidence my youth once held.
By the time I hit seventh grade my life had imploded.
I was coated in depression, self-hate and fear. My anxiety was so real and severe.
I began to cut just to heal the pain I felt in my heart and the anger that devoured my brain.
It took many years for me to find help. But the biggest help came from myself.
I got relief from a prescription bottle. I feel better but still I got problems.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be fully okay, if my life is supposed to be forever gray.
All I can do is live for today and not let myself get in my way.