My life began simple,
Like the flow of a breeze,
A baby girl born in winter,
January, 98.
I had always been wanted,
By my mom and my dad,
They'd been waiting for me,
Since the first kid they had.
I was the last of the litter,
Taking on three older brothers.
They adored me at first,
At least until I grew older.
We were a happy family,
Of which nothing could change,
But that reality slowly melted,
Like the snow in the rain.
By the time I could walk,
I noticed this plain,
The fighting that happened,
Over and over again.
Though my brothers did hide me,
From the pain and disdain,
It inevitably overtook me,
Day after waking day.
My family was broken,
Like the mud made from rain,
And nothing could fix this,
Not even the coldest winters day.
My mother, a drinker.
She drank the pain away.
Making life more difficult,
Dad was slipping away.
The fights were a hate fuel,
And I got dragged along,
Placing great strain on a child,
One who could never overcome.
When the divorce became final,
I got split down the frame,
Switching between houses,
Like a broken monopoly game.
A strain grew inside me,
It turned to anger and hate,
Emotions unbearable,
After all, I was only eight.
When my mom began drinking,
Nothing stood in her way,
It helped fill her fire,
And burned with a rage.
She wanted to be right,
So the glasses took the pain.
But my dad was always there,
It would go without saying,
Trying time and time again,
To save us all from burning.
But at that age I was quiet,
Didn't know how to speak up.
My brother the brave one,
Always knew what was up.
When left alone with our mother,
He was my savior, my clutch.
He'd pretend to call a friend,
When the drinking got bad,
Lock himself in a room,
And call up our dad.
He saved us both from struggle,
Standing his ground,
Till mother went overboard,
Became abusive and mad.
From then I was alone,
My brother living with dad,
Leaving me a small child,
To deal with every mishap.
For a long time without him,
I dealt to my best,
Though speaking up for myself,
Was the hardest thing yet.