I was born a little fat baby,
with eyes shining blue under a cloud of regret.

I was their marriage bond,
A single mother and her manager
and this new crying child that neither of them knew what to do with.

They didn't know what to do with each other.

I was raised on shattered glasses,
broken trinkets,
and holes in the wall
all souvenirs of my father's anger and my mothers fear.

I was raised on sleeping on my brothers floor
because the screaming was too bad to hear on my own.

I learned my lessons on submission on my mothers fingertips,
as she would sweep the glass,
wipe the blood,
and make breakfast while humming, as though these things were just another part of a family dynamic.

And when I was 15, and I threw back a shot of ***** for the very first time,
I found I had learned lessons on dependence
from my fathers daily sin.

My parents tried to un-write their failures in me,
Telling me all the things not to do,
as they handed me a meticulously crafted manual
on exactly how to do them.

I was a shining baby,
and when my dad started to see his regrets in my mother,
and then in me,
he left the state without a single goodbye.

I was a shining baby,
with blue eyes and soft hair,
and I watched my mother cry for months,
as she moved us from fresh start to fresh start.

I was expected to be a prodigal daughter,
forged in the ashes of the lives
that the shining baby burned down.

I crumbled,
I am not a prodigy,
I am a ******-up girl
with enough mistakes stacked up at my young age,
to make my father proud.


I don't want to be a success
I don't want to be a failure
I don't want to be