What did your childhood sound like?


Did it sound like  a crowd cheering when you scored the winning point?  Or, the sound of your friend teaching you to roll a joint. The sound of sirens.  And it feels so right to be doing things wrong. The sound of the engine revving.  Or, the sound of a car radio blasting a new rap song about violence. Or, coming home to the sound of silence, because nobody's there. Or, the sound of the raspy voices in your head when you think nobody cares. Or, the sound of gunshots at nighttime that are to close for comfort. So you text all your friends to make sure no one is hurt.  Or, the sound of the school bell, The sound your feet make when you run out of the building like you're running from Hell, thinking who am I kidding i'll never be good enough.  Or, the sound of an envelope tearing open with your grade card inside. watching all of the color drain from your Dad's face including his pride. Or, the sound of him yelling, telling you that you're weak when he sees that first tear drop roll down your cheek. Or, the sound of your conscience calling you fat. Yeah, there's that. The sound of your stomach growling with hunger when you refuse to eat. " Jeez, you're so FAT you can't even see your feet ."

What did your childhood sound like?

Did it sound  like sticks held by police destroying your families poppy field? The sound of  your mom trying to silence your brother and sister when they squealed. All you want is to end all this pandemonium. What's even so wrong with *****? your whole family is addicted. But everyone was. There's nothing really to be convicted of. even the snakes and mice are addicts. does that mean the animals are also convicts? not to mention, where your from it's used as medicine. The sound of a Marine holding a gun as big as a machine saying it's just routine as he scans your fathers eye so he's easier to identify. He's just an ordinary Afghan. I'ts not like he's a Mad Man, You think. then you feel your heart start to sink to the pit of your stomach. As all of a sudden,  You hear the sound of you family crying. and you're watching your Father dying in front of you. killed, by Insurgents. An obvious divergence of opinions. As you wonder how they could even make that decision to take your Fathers life, right in front of his children and Wife. the sound of your stomach growling with hunger. any found food goes to your siblings because they're younger. the Poppies were your only income. You never cared about money, now you'd do anything to earn some. The sound of Marines teaching you to grow wheat instead. It's not the same but it's something to eat so you don't wind up dead.

No matter what your childhood sounded like, you're more then the things you've heard. no matter where you are in the world, you're not stuck there you're as free as a bird. No matter what you've been through, You're a survivor. Never give up, you were born a fighter. So, before you make judgmental misconceptions, remember there are no exceptions. It doesn't really matter what for, everyone you know is battling their own war.
© copyrighted *Nicole Ann Osborn

Maybe, you didn't want to raise me in poverty.
But, sitting around waiting to win the lottery is not my idea of trying.
I know it's hard to understand when you're to busy crying.
What did I do that was so wrong?
I wanted to cry, but had to be strong.
And I hope one day it hits you, that I will never forgive you.
I guess you just don't know how much it hurt.
Pants always to big, and to small were my shirts.
Hair unwashed, face covered in dirt.
You didn't even care just lied said you were unaware. you said you had no clue of what he continued to do.
And you, you stayed his slave.
But not I, I was brave.
© copyrighted *Nicole Ann Osborn

I wake up in the morning and think, how rude of me to wake up without warning. Because I'm a grenade. Just look at all of the promises I've made, that I know I can't keep. I try my best to go back to sleep; but I can't.
       So I dress myself in yellow caution tape, close the drapes, turn out the light and tell myself no one will find me here but I know they might.
       I hang a stop sign on the outside of the door and lock it, put the key in my otherwise empty pocket and scream, "This is a danger zone, don't come near. there is only hazardous waste in here!"

             I didn't know you were fearless.
Or that you could break down a door.
Never  thought you'd caress me, pick me up off the floor
and say "But, you used to be so full of life."
Those words cut through me like a knife because I remember when butterflies still lived in my stomach and fireflies lived in my eyes.
they're dead now. I'm not surprised.
But, could you maybe bring them back to life?
They haven't taken flight since we slept in the meadow that night.
When I realized, after all those hours laying in a field of flowers,
That I am the flower you disassemble Petal by Petal.
as you chant "she loves me, she loves me not."  about some other girl. And I try not to rant, because we've never fought. But I don't want to listen to you tell me how her hair glistens in the sun, or how she bites her lip when you call her Hon. I don't want to hear it. I don't want you to give my biggest fear a name or face I could recognize. I'm just hoping you scrutinized me petal by petal as you disassembled my petals with another ******* your mind. and that's why you're back now. That you don't know how, but your thoughts trailed or that other girl failed you. And while you were moping you thought of me broken, scattered Petal by Petal. And your heart shattered at the thought so you bought a one way ticket and broke down my door. Because you realized while you were moping that you love me and you were stupid before. maybe i'm wrong and you shouldn't have to settle.

I'm just hoping,  you'll put me together again Petal by Petal
© copyrighted *Nicole Ann Osborn