I grew up watching my father down
a beer to drown his fear, and so I learned
that it is best to hide your feelings.

His fright turned to anger, which he
never covered up, and I found new
hiding spots to escape his rage.

But there is no way to live
in the shadow of an incomplete
family, kept together by an eight
year old son and his baby sister.

We inherited our parents' mistakes,
constantly torn between cruelty and silence.
We only know hate and grief,
broken with nobody to fix us.

I've come to know that there are more
bad nights than good days, and that
nobody will stay to keep you company
when your thoughts overwhelm you.