Ten Things You Should Know Before Becoming an Addict

Thu, 03/14/2019 - 16:37 -- anursa


When I was little

I was too young to understand anything

But bubbles, blankets and balloons

I would play in my crib all day while my father would light up in the next room



Nothing is harder for a mother than telling her daughter that the money she saved in her piggy bank was taken by her father for drugs



I can’t smell weed anymore

I don’t pick up on it when someone smokes it

Perhaps it was because it was all that was around me when my father was around

I have become blind to the scent



When my mother got married again

I hated my step-dad

I thought he would leave us too

That he would abandon us just like my father did



No calls were ever made







No child support either

My mom had to work four jobs to support us

And I still hate her a little inside for never spending time with me

Even though I know it’s my father’s fault



When I turned eighteen

I finally got a call on my birthday

I got a call

Only to ask why I hadn’t called him

My mom had hired a private investigator ten years earlier to try to find him



When I wrote a letter to my father

His response was to call me his “lost princess”

As if I didn’t know where to go or what to do

He said that things were not all his fault

He told me all about his new family



When my father came up to visit me

He took me to the fucking zoo

The animals weren’t even out

At least I knew my way home



My father came back into my house

Saying he was clean

With a bag of weed in his coat pocket

Saying he would never abandon us again

But I had learned to let go



This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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