Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You make me so mad sometimes
When you compare our kids
It’s Thunder dome inside the house
When you compare the kids

Another thing you do that makes me so angry
When you expect more than what is needed with my teenage kids

You know I hate being vulnerable and you know that it’s hard for me to speak up
Sometimes I feel your getting comfortable being on top
You won’t admit it but you treat your kids better
You complain when I make my kids do chores for a $80 video game buts it’s completely okay to buy a $1200 go-kart for your toddlers.

I hate when you compare my kids to yours
It’s not fair
You’re lucky that I’m able to hide your emotions from my kids
I have to learn how to love your kids
But you like when mine aren’t around.

As I’m writing this down
It’s starting to make sense
I think this is the beginning of our end

Don’t you dare think for one ******* second
I’ll stay just because of your kids.
I have a blended family. This doesn’t mean he treats my kids awful. But I need to get this out before I explode and leave. This is a part of my PTSD
H Feb 22
I fill my arms
    buying comfort
        trying to buy my certainty


there are dark seeds
    pushed into a corner

my arms are tired
            I have carried all this through the day

my feet are tired
            I have carried all this through my years


pushed into a corner they will wait

our home

      small boxes
                   larger boxes

dark corners

   our home


while they wait

i forget
             I forget to wake
                            I forget to make dinner

in the darkness

   there is comfort in forgetting

  
tendrils are spilling out of the cupboard

                 purple and white
                                     curling and searching

                                                 touching every dark corner

these seeds
        they have not forgotten
                                        to search



i will bury my  comfort and certainty in the yard

   we have out grown our boxes

                            searching for the light
H Feb 22
the breakfast we never ate...
our bed still warm
waiting for the spoons to return

a voice  
     your little voice…

the table’s weight crashes to the ground…

none of this will return to what it  once was

your small tears can not fix this broken bowl

one song on repeat  

at least its a good one i think…

new bowls
other things to fill them...

how soon we have forgotten  
the bed that wasn’t ready to let us go

tears and laughter
we are broken

our day has just begun.
Alex Dec 2019
A few minutes ago I hate myself a bit more than I usually do. I cut my thigh. One single cut, but it was at that moment I realized I was...alone. I can’t tell my mom she’d be upset. Couldn’t tell My brother he’d tell mom. Couldn’t tell My other brother I was scared to. I also wanted to die but couldn’t because of my son and I hated that. I also hated that I hated that. 1 year and 1 month. 13 months. 395 days. Gone. Because I was a weak.
When I wrote this I was a single mom. Now I’m back with my sons father and things are getting better and everything WILL be ok.
kenzie May 2019
My mother, just the mother.
Not only a mother, but just my mother and me.
My only confidant. My only support.
My only defender and play pretender.
The only bread winner, my only cook for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Only my mother and me.
My mother so much more than a mother.
A teacher, my lecturing preacher.
A caring and compassionate one of a kind go getter and my best friend until the end.
Only my mother and me.
Alex Nov 2018
How can I possibly raise a baby of my own when I can barely raise myself?
K Eaglechild Aug 2017
Anger?
Perhaps it's something more?
Upsetting disappointment?
I'm dragging my son down a path I've followed aimlessly as a child.
He is following within my footsteps. My path.
You wouldn't understand the unbearable stress of being a single parent, with co-parenting with a idiot.
Constantly worrying about the child's needs of seeing this father.
Even when his father isn't enthusiastic about seeing his own son.
Continuously wondering if all this effort of pushing our child towards you is even worth it?
Because, in the end, he is the one who will get hurt.
You've been down this road yourself, we both have daddy-issues.
We both know how this will play out.
Either he resents you as he gets older or he will just end up never seeing you.
We both know how this ends, sadly.
Quettevio Mar 2017
i watched her suffer when the first one was going to a medical school,
knew she would spent years ahead in hell trying to defend her,

i watched her suffer when the second was going to college
and she couldn't afford a proper addition course to make her feel more confident,

i watched her suffer when the third was going to follow the others,
and she was slamming herself bones by bones to make sure she had all the sources,

i watched her suffer and suffer and suffer
for everyone but herself,
and if that doesn't enough to break me in every way possible,
i don't know what else will do.
Mark Lecuona Mar 2016
Walking a straight line
It’s not so easy even with a Bible and love for your children
That’s what they say anyway

But my thoughts are not so still
I can still smell salt near the ocean
My breath quickens in mountain air
And I feel humility in every moment

There are no obstacles I cannot recognize
Because the path is my own
All that is required
Is the strength to overcome my sin

What sound cannot be summoned from within
What memory cannot be recalled at will
But I see you watching me
As I watch you
Your distance is the same as mine
I can only wonder if my journey is the same as yours

Could you that I would with you as I could if you would with me

The confusion of a life constructed to endure
The questions of loyalty to decisions already made
It does not mean I could never love you

It only means I do not know where to begin
Next page