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Apr 2014
There is poison running through my veins
hereditary
passed on from both sets of grandparents. my parents never had a chance
neither do I
There is a silence between our conversations
unspoken words drawing us away from each other
Our kindness to each other is generosity
The days are spent waking from nightmares Iā€™d rather be living in to grunts of good mornings
Waving goodbyes at school
Grunts of greeting at the car and afternoons spent in dreams once again
Till I finally wake up, late evening, switch on my online world and speak to the family I wish I lived with
There is sadness running down these walls
Emptiness between occasional hugs
Hatred slowly growing in hearts
We will probably never speak again once I move out
This normal for me, for the many millions living the way I do
Why
I want to love them the way normal people do
My family are strangers under the same roof
I don't even know what they dream about
Written by
Mishka  South Africa
(South Africa)   
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