Mommy was a druggie
Daddy was a drinker
Brother was a dealer
Baby brother was a cutter
Sister was a party animal
And me, a people pleaser!
No matter the type, we all have our own vice, passed on from trauma, just as bad as shitty advice.
No vice the same, and yet we each complain, about what the other is doing, just ignoring the pain.
Who am I to judge the way you choose to cope?
Instead, I should be helping you to hold on to hope.
We should be pulling each other out from the years of pain and hurt
We should be patient and understanding, not critical and curt.
How dare you turn turn away when we need each other the most?
We should be hugging each other nice and close.
Mommy’s not a druggie
Daddy’s still a drinker
Brothers not a dealer
Baby brother is a surviver
Sister is a mother
And well me, I’m a thinker.