a house is not always a home
i learned that too early
too young to know what family was
because i never
had one
passed from family to family like some kind of disease
and that's when the disease
became
me
i'm sick again
it had been years since my last treatment
in and out of hospitals like a child going to school
i tell people i'm afraid of needles
and they think it's because i've seen what they do to my brother
but it's what they do to me
that makes my heart jump into my throat
and i can't
breathe
is what my nurse tells me
"maybe you won't faint this time"
i want to tell her that i'm scared
but then my terrible mind stops me
"there are people out there with worse problems"
my mind yells at me
just like my father does when he's had enough to drink
but the difference is
at least i
want
to put my hands on my mind
and choke it senseless
tell it to shut up
tell it to go away
go away
it's a problem
"she's a problem" is what my mother says
i've been in therapy since i was four
and my mother says it's because i had
adoption issues
as a child
little does she know
that the adoption issues didn't go away
i'm still four
million years away
from being okay with myself
as i sit here writing this
my parents are at a dinner party
and i am at my own party
with abandonment issues, depression and anxiety as my guests
they throw open the door to my house
not home
and make a mess of me
shamelessly
they tell me things i don't care to hear
my doctors say it's paranoia
schizophrenia, perhaps
i don't listen
i'm good at that
my therapist says i don't listen to things i don't believe
so maybe that's why i haven't heard my parents say
i love you
in years
or maybe it's because they haven't cared enough
to say it.