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K Apr 10
there's no end, i've come to realize
at least, not one to satisfy me.
i remember at one point,
having that dream.

do you remember it?
it had long since died by your introduction.
i realized by then that it wasn't an option
wasn't viable, was not smart.

and now, i wish i could just go for it.
see the world. instead of this,
whatever i have right now.

when you're a kid,
people say you're gonna be something,
and as a kid you really believe them.
mom and dad busting their *****,
to give you the life they wanted.

except, mom's dying in the hospital.
and dad? - he ran off as soon as he heard.
yeah kid, we know you're not prepared.

but those kids need someone.
and you're all they've got left,
so start ******* moving
JE Boothe Jul 2020
You opened your heart and your home
for me to start over from all I’ve known.

You listen as I open up and begin to share,
you help me understand this is not my shame to bear.

You can see the hurt running through my veins,
you patiently teach me how to heal from my pain.

You give me hope when all I feel is frustration,
you lead to the path of restoration.

You stand by me each and every day,
you love and support me along the way.

You are selfless, loving, and dedicated,
you are my hero that’s loved and appreciated.

You opened your heart and your home
for me to be loved and to know I’m never alone.
CarolineSD Aug 2019
The vague shadow of an ancient oak pulsing
Like an image through static
Through drifting fog
So thick that only the wind
Can lift it and let slip
The outlines of
Where I began.

My ancestry is incompletely buried.
The sharp rocks of drunken nights
Slice upon the roots
Disfiguring, pummeling, smashing,
Rendering mute the stories their craggy hollows could tell
Dissolving in that same fear
My grandmother must have known so well.

I don’t know how to find her,
To reconstruct a broken form
From all of these pieces,
These fallen leaves that
Drift like secrets,
Like the ones my mother
Whispered to me in the dark
When I was nine and old enough
To hold them, to hold her,
When she fell apart.

Because they took them, you know.
My mother, her sisters, her brothers,
The county clipping the roots like
Plucking flowers,
Like it was nothing at all to scatter
Children in the wind,
Like fallen leaves upon the shallows
Of some lonely pond,
Like broken branches
Overpowered by a system that
Only wanted them

So, you see,
It wasn't just the wind that ***** the tree,
But a system that decided
Whose voice to wipe away and
What to keep.

My ancestry is incompletely buried.
Sometimes, I'm sure I can hear her sobbing,
A broken, fragile song, emerging from the earth
Just where the roots, interlocking, stop
the dirt from completely blocking
The story of a battered woman
Buried for too long.

The vague shadow of an ancient oak pulsing
Like an image through static
Through drifting fog
So thick that only the wind
Can lift it and let slip
The outlines of
Where I began.

What if I run my hands along the bark,
The broken pieces, the empty spaces,
Where her voice might be?

Grandma, speak to me.
JaxDillon Jun 2019

At seven he had already moved more times than the total number of years he had been on this Earth
And this time, like the times before it, he moved with his belongings in a trashbag. Stolen clothes, stolen belongings.
A suitcase, at least, would have added a small degree of dignity, and confidence to the whole affair - to being "placed" in another and another and yet another foster home before reaching 3rd grade
Trash Bags break,  you know
Trash Bags can't possibly support the contents of any life, and certainly not a life as fragile as this
This is what the moving of kids in foster care is like
JasFow Feb 2019
When I first was taken away
I didn’t like to speak
I had nothing left in me to say
My biding was done
So most days from sun up to sun down
I sat at the dining room table
Surrounded by large windows
Letting in natural light eliminating the house
I sat and looked out the windows
Facing out the to the East
The large field grew tall with unkept grass
The trees barely blocking anything
Green everywhere in sight
And horses
Real horses running around in their yard
Not a mile across
Spending hours sitting, looking out
I’m not sure what for
I wasn’t searching for anything
Just glancing out with scratched glasses
Not focusing on any one thing
Mostly using the time to think
If things went any different
If what it was, wasn’t
If what would be, wouldn’t
Doing so for almost three years
But it now feels like a waste
It didn’t change a thing
Foster care is still foster care in the end
Now a part of my past
Thank God it didn’t last
And thank you to my now parents
For the adoption
As long as I had my sister with me, nothing else mattered.
indigochild Dec 2018
When we were younger and didn’t really know how the world worked, we heard the story of our parents going into a patch and choosing their baby.

I often tell my family that I went into a patch and choose them.
Jey Blu Mar 2018
I need to break free from these binding thoughts holding me down and tearing me up mind and heart racing in sync wondering if I'll fly or I'll sink I'll probably fall attempting to jump this wall of insincerity living or dying its all just the same dates in some notebook no hall of fame live your life but not my way just yours I have no choice but to come when you call down at your feet is where I will fall drawing me in with false love and hope  controlling my life like I'm some sort of dope I am not finished don't interrupt me until I say what I say I'm using my voice I'm calling your name now listen to me or get out of the way
Jey Blu Mar 2018
I miss you kid
I miss your sarcastic comments
I miss the way you frustrate yourself doing your hair
I miss your obsessions
I miss our song
I miss dancing in my room to your cds
I miss fighting with you over stupid things
I miss your chipped nails
I miss your glasses too far down your nose
I miss your references
I miss knowing all your crushes
I miss teasing you
I miss you teasing me
I miss **** date or marry
I miss your goody two shoes side
I miss your rebel side
I miss how proud you were of yourself
I miss your old confidence
I miss doing your makeup
I miss laying down and looking at the clouds
I miss everything
I missed you growing up
I missed you changing
I missed you becoming who you're not
You're gonna be in seventh grade in 6 months
And I'm not sure if I'll be there to see you off
I just want to be back with you
It's so scary being alone at that house, I know
I'm so proud of you and I love you
Stay strong kiddo
I hope you see this Abby

Update: She did
Jey Blu Mar 2018
You're too young
You don't need the stress of knowing
How about the stress of not knowing
You expect me to be fine
Not knowing if my little sister is coming back
You expect me not to be *******
Not knowing if I'm staying
You expect me not to be scared
Not knowing what happened to my brother
You expect me to trust you
Not knowing who to believe
You put words in my mouth
Not knowing what to say
This situation
Is frustrating as ****
And you expect me to be okay
Well news flash

im not okay.
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