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As my father lay, passed out in his chair with whiskey nursing his dead heart and healing his origami wrists My sister and I's stomaches ache with hunger I sacrifice my last piece of poptart to her and pray to make it till my mother comes home She crashes into the door An alarm for my father harmonizes in a disastrous symphony He dashes out the door for the next shift Leaving my mother, crying after seeing the mess and her children passed out by the empty fridge Her grease burnt arms scrub the wine covered coffee table Until red stains turn pink and empty cigarette packs fill the trash She picks up a glass and fills it with wine and drinks away the memories until everything is warm Thus continues the cycle Money sparse, bills unpaid, cupboards nearly bare Two parents whose love had been infested with addiction and depression stemming from broken, abusive homes and even more abusive past relatioships Leaving two children in the destruction of constant fighting which led to divorce The eldest following her mother's footsteps of constant abuse and taking on her father's pain with origami wrists to match The youngest never bounced back, a brick wall built from years of silence left her permanently mute. Every day she drifts further and further away from reality and lives in her fantasy world.
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Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 2:15 AM UTC
Poptart Crumbs and Empty Beer Bottles
As my father lay, passed out in his chair with whiskey nursing his dead heart and healing his origami wrists My sister and I's stomaches ache with hunger I sacrifice my last piece of poptart to her and pray to make it till my mother comes home She crashes into the door An alarm for my father harmonizes in a disastrous symphony He dashes out the door for the next shift Leaving my mother, crying after seeing the mess and her children passed out by the empty fridge Her grease burnt arms scrub the wine covered coffee table Until red stains turn pink and empty cigarette packs fill the trash She picks up a glass and fills it with wine and drinks away the memories until everything is warm Thus continues the cycle Money sparse, bills unpaid, cupboards nearly bare Two parents whose love had been infested with addiction and depression stemming from broken, abusive homes and even more abusive past relatioships Leaving two children in the destruction of constant fighting which led to divorce The eldest following her mother's footsteps of constant abuse and taking on her father's pain with origami wrists to match The youngest never bounced back, a brick wall built from years of silence left her permanently mute. Every day she drifts further and further away from reality and lives in her fantasy world.
YourStereotypicalAltGirl
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Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 2:15 AM UTC
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