Oct 2014
Winter of 2003
I won't hang my head past February,
Or let the obstacles I face stamp my feet into a statistic.
You left me, 10 years old, with a baby that's hand coiled around my finger like a ring that was two sizes too small.
I would use sweat to lubricate his grip but,
He was to precious to remove, so I let him choke the circulation until it looked like your eye makeup before you left for "work".
Painful.
A 10 year old, with ten fingers, perfect to cook 10 chicken nuggets I got for $2.67.
He only had ten teeth but I only had 10 dollars that you earned from spending ounces of Smirnoff wasting away your body to the underground public.
Early Spring 2003
He calls me 'Mom' instead of 'Maddie'.
The bathtub in our apartment would always slump,
I would grip handfuls of his rolls to save him from drowning,
water leaked into the grout of the tile, drawing mold between the carpet causing our conversations to rot,
They were no longer sweet,
The expiration date was February 1st when you planned another baby.
Summer 2008
You kicked me out,
I spent each day with my feet scorching,
Barbecuing on the charcoal grill of Las Vegas streets.
I couch hopped from friend to friend,
sometimes slept in the rain gutter to stake out for the night.
I still knew your hours,
kept my journal close, dragged my guitar case behind me, occasionally stopped by the house to see him all grown up, only at 8 years old.
He would leave chicken nuggets on the front window sill, the dragging of my guitar case gave me away.
September 10th, 2011
You let me back into the house,
My little brother of 8 years old slept in my bed for 3 weeks straight.
1.4 million teens become runaways each year.
I won't let you stamp my feet into a statistic.
Runaway isn't my choice.
Fall 2014
Still standing.
I won't hang my head past February,
Or let the obstacles I face stamp my feet into a statistic.
You left me, 10 years old, with a baby that's hand coiled around my finger like a ring that was two sizes too small.
I would use sweat to lubricate his grip but,
He was to precious to remove, so I let him choke the circulation until it looked like your eye makeup before you left for "work".
Painful.
A 10 year old, with ten fingers, perfect to cook 10 chicken nuggets I got for $2.67.
He only had ten teeth but I only had 10 dollars that you earned from spending ounces of Smirnoff wasting away your body to the underground public.
Early Spring 2003
He calls me 'Mom' instead of 'Maddie'.
The bathtub in our apartment would always slump,
I would grip handfuls of his rolls to save him from drowning,
water leaked into the grout of the tile, drawing mold between the carpet causing our conversations to rot,
They were no longer sweet,
The expiration date was February 1st when you planned another baby.
Summer 2008
You kicked me out,
I spent each day with my feet scorching,
Barbecuing on the charcoal grill of Las Vegas streets.
I couch hopped from friend to friend,
sometimes slept in the rain gutter to stake out for the night.
I still knew your hours,
kept my journal close, dragged my guitar case behind me, occasionally stopped by the house to see him all grown up, only at 8 years old.
He would leave chicken nuggets on the front window sill, the dragging of my guitar case gave me away.
September 10th, 2011
You let me back into the house,
My little brother of 8 years old slept in my bed for 3 weeks straight.
1.4 million teens become runaways each year.
I won't let you stamp my feet into a statistic.
Runaway isn't my choice.
Fall 2014
Still standing.
It's hard growing up, it's hard to take care of a younger sibling when you are young yourself, but we all have the chance to get through it. Love and dedication.
