My mother had too many children.
Me, at 23
and the last, at 32.
Adopted two, whom I love so very much
Eight children
Seven siblings
Eight, including the one who died;
So I guess nine siblings.
My older sisters were fostered when I was two
Adopted when I was nine.
So they get the leeway,
Not me.
Why would it be me?
I am the test subject
'Let's see what goes right and wrong with this child
and we'll use this information for the rest.'
They pushed me in school
home too.
I always needed to be the golden child
they could show off
and talk about to the rest of the family.
But then I messed up
I went downhill
and they said it was my fault.
I needed to do better
What was wrong with me?
I should be fine.
We never spoke about the bad ****.
Not once did we speak about what we were struggling with.
Because that is not okay, I must be okay.
I slipped and ended up in the hospital for two weeks.
Met some great people in the children's ward.
Great people struggling with similar **** as I,
But we didn't do grippy socks.
The floors were too *****.
We've got to keep our shoes on.
I had to take out my braids,
My mom helped me and complained the whole time.
'Why did you have to put in so many?'
'How many more could you possibly have?'
'I told you, you should have taken them out sooner.'
I turned down social services when my doctor asked.
I could have been free.
But I am and was living in a false world.
Reality is broken eggshells and glass on the floor.
She doesn't want to make me mad because I might throw a fit, and she thinks I'm going to beat someone up
because my thoughts are apparently my actions too.
I am not the monster that you call me behind my back
You are not the monster either, mother dear.
Father doesn't need to defend you anymore
Stockholm syndrome is a curse, and I will not fall for you like him.
You are not a monster.
Inhuman maybe,
Creature unfit for love, possibly.
But not a monster.
I am not a clay mold you can shape to be like you,
But not like how you turned out.
I will not be unemployed,
I will not be in debt like you.
I will talk
Preach my voice far and wide
Loud and quiet.
Even if it shakes.
And you can hear me, Mother dear.
Listen to all I say.
Be offended and angry
Distraught and disappointed.
For I do not care.
If I am in such a fairy tale like you say,
I will not let you take away my happily ever after.
I will get the man of my dreams.
And he will fall for me and not for who you say I am.
Come to my wedding if you must, but know,
It is my father who walks me down the aisle, not you.
And it will never be you
Because I am not you.