My childhood was messy.
I know that much,
However I do not know most of what happened.

I’ve a feeling, a few memories,
Of being beat,
Dragged across the floor by my hair-
He was most likely drunk.

I’ve forgiven him, now,
Working towards a decent relationship.
We rarely talk.

I remember some of my childhood,
A few good memories,
My hand in my mother’s back pocket,
As we walked through Wal-Mart,
Looking for food.

The peace I felt,
Is what I wish I had once more.

My childhood had many,
Many ups and downs,
And perhaps I truly didn’t have one,
But that’s okay.

I’m learning.