I have always lived with strangers in my home.

The agony of not having a true family is greatly disturbing.

You see, demons terrorize my household.

I used to be afraid of going home, where I would be alone in the unknown, in a place where violence is condoned. 

Now, I am just irritated.

I do not know my parents. I only know the sorrow that they have provoked and inflicted in me, when I did not ever intend it to be. I just want to be happy. 

But I cannot be happy when my father is beating my mother in the room next to mine and my wall is pounding, my floor is shaking, and my heart is aching.

I cannot be happy even if I wished to be, because I am still in this environment and there is no escape from it as I am impotent in a world where male dominance is clearly evident.

I am just as aggravated now, as my father is when he swings his fist back and forth.

The only difference is that I have been provoked.

One similarity, however, is that this could have been prevented.

But, no. It was not. It was never.

Blood and tears have been shed. Bones have been broken. 

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME

The UFC warns on TV– clearly, my father cannot read and he chooses to not listen 

He should have known I too would have been affected.

He treats his bitches outside better than he treats my mom.

That is why I refuse to accept his love.

I do not want to be another one of his dogs.

It is somewhat ironic that at times I like him better though.

You can call me immature or whatever you please, but I am angry at the fact that my mother will never leave.

At times of despair she pleads for my dad’s death

This only adds more to my torment.

She used to blame ME for HIS wrath. 

As if I had asked him that night to pick up the knife.

Or belt. Or rope. Or plate. Or wrench. Or gun.

He should have pointed it at you, she told me once. 

But mom it was me who convinced him to stop.

She has threatened to leave ME plenty of times, but has never abandoned HIM.

My hatred ignited when I went to her expressing immense vulnerability about my depression.

You only want the attention. She said.

When in reality, I only wanted my mom. I needed my mom. I needed a mother’s love.

But my mom was gone. 

She’s been gone and I should have known.

I keep to myself at all times, because to this day she mocks me for confiding in her. 

It was my mistake. Just like all the other times.

I should have remembered that I do not live with my family. 

My parents are gone.

The two adults in my home are strangers.

They have forgotten who they ever wedded.

And she has forgot, that I did not steal my dad’s love.