my most prominent childhood memory
is when i stood barefoot in the snow
screaming for my mommy.
it was hard to see her go.

i understand now why my father
drinks beer day in and out
because i know the feeling to want something nearer
or close to your mouth.

i was ***** by the same person
who molested me when i was four
i was just sixteen, wasnt even over the first one
same year mommy died, i turned into a *****.

i was in love with a hurricane
and it ate me alive
no use for Novocaine,
i could hardly survive.

last hospitalization
the sixth time i spent a week
with intravenous medication
for my soul to keep.

the first song i wrote was
about my step father
as he tried to push mommy down the stairs because
she was drunk, and such a bother

i spent a week at my now passed grandparents' home
with barbies, cookies, not one school day
as young as i was, as little that i had known
my life was not okay

i have been used about 36 times
in different ways, but on different days
and it makes me feel guilty sometimes
i could have coped in better ways

i reach for you like nothing before
no where near the bottle, the blade
i dont want you like the smoke, the noose i almost wore
it came apart, like we did, and so i hoped and prayed

this prose is ugly to the core
my angel would hear me sing
until she started to snore