I am a product of my parents pain
Holding the weight of their trauma on my shoulders no older than nine.
I'd be lying if I said I regret the roles I played
in the chaos they create

We were only little kids, up the stairs not far away,
watching the cracks run up the wall, breathing in menthol
this was our fate

And from that day, the chaos insued, mini mommy #2
sleepless nights, blood shot eyes. Just like the baby was mine.
Since day 1 it's what I was expected to do.

My baby brother was no less than 2
The night I awoke to screaming and banging,
I knew the role it was time to assume,
I rushed down in a panic to grab him out of their room.
I froze in fear watching the anger trickle down their faces and seeing the way my father paces.
My friends were all dreaming in their beds
while I was on the phone with Mamaw trying to use my head,
To get out this house, before we're dead.
In the morning when they all got ready for math I started to buckle his carseat so fast,
ready to leave this mess
I just want my baby brother to get some rest.

They're screaming through the walls again,
yet my little sister silently sleeps through their soundly battles
while I hear my brother cry for the 19th time
Making my way downstairs
Peering into the room
just to get ****** into their doom, forced to choose a side.
Becoming apart of the fight that night made them make amends
finding a common enemy means they can be friends.
I just wanted quiet
I just wanted peace.
I just wanted calm and for my baby brother to sleep.
I swear I'm a good mother to him I swear it's so true,
I know that I am because I'm doing more than you.
I need my baby to sleep. It's good for him, you see?
So you have to find common ground by villainizing me
for a little bit of tranquility,
maybe we can all get some sleep.

My father is full of rage
and my mother seeks control from her anxiety,
they were a dangerous combination of chemicals
causing me to sizzle over slowly, symptomatically
Ruining my brain functions,
systematically.
Though, I have gained from them every part they hate about themselves.
Searching to find their insecurities in me
but can't relieve myself of their generational wealth of trauma,
so maybe we can just pretend it's all okay,
just for a day.

I can't untagled the parts of them that are within me.
I am forever bound and chained by their past and pain,
there will always be pieces of them that are pieces of me.
I feel my father's rage and I seek my mother's control,
yet I'm grieving them like they're dead,
while trying to picture what I'd really do about their death.
The weight of their mistakes push down tightly on my chest.

I don't like confrontation,
but I'm staring the sun straight in the face
Begging you both to love me properly
Praying for a life where you guys kept me safe.
I just wanted to be your kid.
Not a piggy bank vault of hidden secrets
forced to keep collecting and harboring your emotional baggage, just for you to forget
Leaving me with lockets of memories
That will forever remain hard to piece.