He always tries to talk about my family.

So I shut him out.

He asks if I'll spend the day with my mother

and I hardly refrain from cussing him out.

He asks me about my father,

he says just one word about it

and I scream at him

or throw something

or throw him out of the house

and slam the door in his face.

I still tell myself I'm okay though.

That it didn't damage me.

That I'm not still that child inside.

That I've gotten past all of it.



He always asks me about my family.

That's why we're not friends anymore.