#familyissues
I stood there.
Staring my mind couldn't wrap around it.
After 7 f--king years they where finally clean and back.
I couldn't find the words to say to them.
My mother laughed while smiling.
I tried to remember it after a few seconds, but I just didn't ever remember her laugh.
My father spoke up
"you've grown”
That was all he said.
My arms prickled.
Why did he sound like that?
Did he always sound like that?
So monotone.
So bland.
Maybe I wasn't thinking about the right thing, they were there!
I wanted to go hug them but…i just didn't move as i stared up at them they hadn't called in so long i just…didn't remember their faces.
But they had to be them.
This feeling of dread kept me back.
But I noticed something.
My mom loved her long hair.
Right in front of me like I saw was her.
But it wasn't.
Her hair was short and she kept smiling, learning.
The whole moment felt off.
They were in California, they were homeless.
How did they get up here?
And their addicts they wouldn't stop.
Why would they?
They never did it after I was born.
That was the whole reason I left with my grandmother.
But there they were, standing in front of my door smiling so deathly quiet.
Their eyes were all over me learning how I stood, how I acted, everything.
My mother noticed my left hand.
I had always had a birth defect there.
Symbrachydactyly that's what they called it.
Weird name isn't it?
She spoke her voice sounded like butter pouring on popcorn, greasy and never ending.
“Oh my dear what happened?”
I stood still.
She birthed me she would know about it.
I finally looked them exactly in the face.
It looked like masks.
Their faces so so very close but wrong.
And they knew it. The smell finally hit me.
The god awful smell of rotting flesh, it seemed to slip at that moment.
The Mannequin stared at me.
Its lifeless eyes stared back.
I wasn't able to close the door fast enough.
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 12:49 AM UTC
Everyday and the same man greets my bed
Everyday and that man dusts and builds bends
Everyday and that man shivers the skeleton housed in hand
Everytime, exists the same man in my mirror
For who is this son of a *****
Who does he think he is
Eyes repulsed to themselves
Skin course and stained, unappetized to all
For who would tolerate such a low life
What a child
What a punk
How irresponsible
You call yourself of age
Try to decite yourself to purity
For how could the son of demons evoke actions of angels
For he is demons to the blood before him
For he stands on what it is to be human
Bending himself to throw nurturing demons to the pits of the heathens
As he shall end this carnage for the sanctity and sanity of him and all
For the bends they bent had broke reality
Had scatter essence of all peace into a lifetime of a puzzle
So why scavenge this scatter and not abolish the tumors themselves?
As such are not mother and brother, but alien and viral instead.
Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 10:47 AM UTC
I look at myself in the mirror,
searching for cracks that were never there before.
I turn my face left, then right,
as if the glass might whisper
what I did wrong.
I had never feared my own reflection.
It used to be just me
quiet, ordinary, enough.
But your words
fell like a blade without warning,
sharp and shining,
cutting deeper than skin ever could.
You are my mother.
Your voice is the one
that taught me my name,
the one that tucked me in at night
so why does it echo now
like a verdict?
You made it clear
she shines brighter in your eyes.
That love leans in her direction
like sunlight through a window
that never quite reaches me.
And still,
I stand here in the mirror,
trying to measure my worth
against the shadow of a sister
I was never meant to compete with.
Maybe the glass is not the problem.
Maybe there is nothing wrong with my face,
my laugh,
my being.
Maybe the wound is not ugliness
but the ache of wanting
to be chosen too.
And even with the sting of it,
I am still here.
Still breathing.
Still whole in ways
no cruel word can erase.
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 1:31 PM UTC
to: mom
you sit at my table every day.
sorry, our table. your table.
you sit on the same chair you did the past 17 years of my life.
But it feels like that chair is empty.
like it wasn’t filled ever.
like it’s missing something, someone.
the chair is there. it is. but it is filled with the ghost of you.
that ghost is all my “good memories” of you. but when your actions and words outshine that ghost, it disappears.
and with it do all the good ones.
And suddenly i don’t remember a thing. I don’t comprehend how i can loathe and love a person that has always been present but never a part of my life.
And you don’t know how jealous i am. Oh, how jealous i am when i am over at my friend’s houses. And i sit at their tables, where they sit everyday and see the look on their mother’s faces. Because they aren’t ghosts, they are present, a constant. Who always sits at their tables and acts to make them happy.
Maybe one day you can become that. But still there will always be a ghost sitting on the same chair, that is yours.
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 5:47 PM UTC
Oh, my sweet child.
Time passed,
When you are growing up too fast.
People always say
You are a talented child.
You are emotionally mature.
You are wonderful,
quiet child.
But who knows?
Deep down what you have been craving
For your whole life?
Am I good enough, Mother?
Am I good enough, Father?
Am I good enough, Grandpa?
Am I good enough, Grandma?
Why have you left me here?
Scared and fragile?
Like a helpless stray dog during the storm.
Neglected and broken?
Like a hatchling that broke its wings.
Am I unwanted, Mother?
Am I unwanted, Father?
Am I unwanted, Grandpa?
Am I unwanted, Grandma?
Why don’t you love me?
Why don’t you love me?
Why don’t you love me?
Why don’t you love me?
Why don’t you care for me?
Why don’t you care for me?
Why don’t you care for me?
Why don’t you care for me?
Why did you leave me?
Faced with the cruelness
of the neighbors?
Faced with the harsh words,
Guilty and shame?
Why did you let them treat me like that?
Like an unwanted child.
Like a burden of this
Whole world.
Independence from your distance.
Is it a gift or a curse?
Am I a gift or a burden?
I am a neglected child.
Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
I'm not going to tell all my friends I'm suicidal
and I'm not going to send three texts to every contact I have every day
I don't need to make plans with them
I'm fine with the socialization I get from school
I'm not suicidal because of things at school
my problems stem from home
Dad is almost never home
just because his job makes him have to work far away doesn't mean he can't call
Meena needs to get off my ***
every single tiny ******* thing she feels the need to point out
and not to mention the fat shaming
And just because Lali has ADHD doesn't mean she can be a *****
she can't tell me nobody likes me and I have no friends because she's angry
I'm no psychologist
but I don't think ADHD works like that
And you need to get off my *** when it comes to grades
I made it into the school musical
I have a pretty big role
And band
I might ask for a solo
but you wouldn't care about my intrests would you
no... all it is is school, school, school, and grades with you
and maybe
yeah
most of my friends from my favorite friend group are going through a tough time
but you know what
I get more support there
than I do at home
so no
I'm not lonely
i'm... neglected, I guess
Jan 12, 2025
Jan 12, 2025 at 11:33 PM UTC
I was in a car in a parking lot with my family
Looking into the window of a car
I saw a girl I knew from afar
Being treated just like a star
But we both had wit, and we both were smart
And I watched her through my calamity
Watched her get paused at the accomplishments we both had happily
Daydreaming if my family could reenact this fantasy
And I can tell her family has the biggest heart
If only mine's opinion on my achievements would just restart
Even if we were the same, she'd be the work of art
But if she's both Yin and Yang, when can I play my part?
Sep 27, 2024
Sep 27, 2024 at 9:50 PM UTC
I am useless,
Clueless,
Naive
And foolish.
I am a child
Of chance.
A night of romance.
I am an early-morning
Call,
A surprise to all,
Aren't I, mother?
One that can use no tool.
A waste to the teacher,
Within a school.
Aren't I, father?
A child
'Out of control'.
Seemingly 'too old'
To be consoled.
But alas,
You wish for connection.
How should I know of it?
I am prone to rejection.
Subjection,
To your own mistake.
A choice you made.
The icing on the cake.
But now I am far
Away from your pain.
For I live in worth,
As you live in shame.
Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 4:03 PM UTC
The road is long,
But I run
Faster than the sun.
I leave a note
On my bed.
Minds fill with dread,
Questions asked;
'Is she dead?'.
No mommy,
But I do not wish
To come home.
I feel too alone.
The road is long,
But I run
In the blink of an eye.
But where does it lead?
To peace?
Shall I run back
And cease?
No.
I shall run more,
Leave the others to scorn,
So mommy knows
My heart is torn.
But now
The road comes to end.
Sirens,
They fill my head.
They run with me.
Those men.
Chasing me
For fun and glee.
But they finally catch up,
They sound much louder.
For I see mommy,
Looking quite sour.
She brought me home
Near the morning hour.
I lie in a daze,
My mind is a haze.
I wake up in bed,
With the sound of rain.
But today's the day
I do it again.
Nov 9, 2023
Nov 9, 2023 at 4:35 PM UTC
Just because
We are bound by blood,
Does not mean
We breed the same love.
We do not share
The same view,
Or see eye-to-eye.
You ponder in confusion,
Always wondering why.
Allow me to explain
These words of pain.
We do not
Share a connection,
We are not bound by the heart.
We are torn and broken,
Millions of miles apart.
We are fluent in fighting,
Storms and lightning,
Arising,
As we crash and burn.
And we turn.
Face the opposite direction,
Lost connection,
As we accept the truth.
Mother,
Bloodline is bound,
But I
Am far from you.
Nov 8, 2023
Nov 8, 2023 at 2:50 PM UTC
You blame her for my struggles,
yet you were the one who made me suffer.
Always busy earning money,
never doing anything funny.
You made me question my own worth,
shortening my time on this earth.
I was 15 when I first took the blade,
creating something that will never fade.
It’s sad how blind you were,
thinking you were a good father to me.
Couldn’t see the tears and the pains,
being treated by losing blood from my veins.
Needing pills to stay alive,
couldn’t even know how much longer I can survive.
Yet you still think you aren’t the one to blame,
thanks to you my life will never be the same.
I will never forget what you have said,
nor the memories which I can’t get out of my head.
I never wanna see you again,
and you should respect that if you are a man.
Nov 16, 2022
Nov 16, 2022 at 2:04 PM UTC
How do we clash
so harsh
and yet sparse
but it lasts
anger blush
as we laugh
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 8:39 AM UTC
You were the first man to leave,
Sometimes I feel anger and confusion,
Knowing you had far more important things to do than to stay for the birth of your daughter.
You came around again, spent time with me, but you acted like I was a burden so you left again. You have a habit of leaving and this 9 year old little girl didn’t know why, all she wanted was her Daddy, someone that’s supposed to protect and love her.
Yeah, you had your issues and another mans family is paying the price for that, but now you’re paying the price for it all.
You’ve become a better man, keeping in touch, but often I ask myself if you’re just bored or lonely or when you get out, are you going to run back to your old ways or are you running back to your daughter, only you know that, but I’ll always love you.
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 1:09 AM UTC
when he scares you
never expect an apology
after all, he didn't mean it
you're the one who's fragile
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
Why not be blamed
For something I did not do?
A crime is not a crime
Unless it has been committed
But this my friends,
It was an accident,
And I am afraid I did not do it
Why not be blamed
For a victimless crime
When it happened right before my eyes
We take the time and time again
And it starts to get real
The happenings begin
Why not be a motherless child
In a world that makes that okay
I am a victim of a crime
A crime that can't be faked
Why not leave
Mother dearest
When I need you most
To work my way through this
I'm starting to hear voices in my head
Help me, mother,
I just want this to end
I am not crazy
The voices haven't pushed me over the edge
Find me, mother
Even though I know you're dead
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 12:33 AM UTC
You’ve given me life
And raised me on your own
Because my father’s in jail
And you always felt alone
When I was young,
You paid attention
You gave me love,
And so much affection
As I grow older older
You only grow colder
Brush me off your shoulder
Then blame me as our lives molder
You tell me I’m selfish
And call me a liar
Your love is my one wish
My deepest desire
I crave your approval
But I’m never enough
All I get is reproval
And I can’t take it
I truly believed
You’d be relieved
And you wouldn’t grieve
If you lost me
Because my whole life
You’ve shown little respect
All I did was hurt
And all you did was neglect
You saw what was happening
As the man you married put his hands on me
And yet, you just stood there
You watched as I was beat
When you had found out
That I was harming myself
All you did was shout
And said all I wanted was attention
When in reality, I did it to feel
Because your neglect numbed me
I wanted to know I was real
And you told me you hated me
You said there must be something wrong with me
To need that much attention
So you agreed to take me to therapy
Where I was diagnosed with depression
You stormed out of there
Saying “you have no reason to be depressed”
But you didn’t know me at all
All the feelings I’d repressed
How could you not see
What you were doing to me
All I wanted was to flee
I wanted to be free
I sunk into a hole
Of darkness and pain and anguish
It swallowed me whole
And you left me alone
Then one day you said
“Why don’t you talk to me?”
And I said “Because every time I try
You never listen, just scream.”
“That’s ******** Grace!”
You screamed in my face
I said, “This is my point.”
All I did was disappoint
No matter what I did
I wasn’t good enough
No matter how hard I worked
You made everything rough
“Mother knows best”
I don’t know about that
It took me so long to be happy
And this is a fact
You didn’t try
You made me say goodbye
To the few people who cared
You made me feel scared
I didn’t feel safe
You’re my biggest fear
At night I’d lay awake
Wondering “Why am I here?”
I reached rock bottom
And once I was there
I knew how to dig myself out
It made me aware
I stopped trying so hard for you, Mother
And I instead tried for me
And since then I’ve been thriving
I’m finally on my feet
Because after years of falling
And nobody calling
I knew what I needed
And that I wasn’t conceited
I wish I could say
My mother helped in some way
But she just dragged me down
At the end of the day
So I believe
That I know best
What’s best for me
Now I can get some rest
I can now be happy
With those who stand by me
And for them I’m so grateful
I don’t have to feel shameful
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
my mom doesn't want me. she'd rather no daughter at all than one who is "sick". she says i make her life harder and that she is embarrassed by me. she says she is jealous of "normal kids". i dont blame her, i am too. i hate being "sick". but she didn't phrase it as if she wished i didn't suffer, oh no, she phrased it as if she wished she didnt have me.
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
Mother, Father, where are your heads?
Swimming with ignorance and memories that don’t exist,
Engulfed by your self-delusions, so remiss
Could you tell me: do you know your kids?
Did you know they’re busy avoiding their eyelids;
Scavenging wretchedness for momentary bliss,
Scouring for a second of relief in a static abyss?
But you’re too busy using the methods you forbid
Mother, Father, we scream in silence:
Do you know mercy, or are we to live in blind compliance?
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
Go to sleep, it’s past midnight.
And watch your nightmares come to life.
It’s a sick freak show,
Heck we should know,
Mother get me a knife.
This house smells of stale liquor.
The poison blood, it runs deeper.
Take my hand,
It’s so cold,
And soon will be colder and stiffer.
I watch the bruises bloom and fade.
But the shame – it will never change.
I’m always at war,
Face to the floor,
Father, this is what you made.
Drag me down and yank me under.
It feels like home in a whirl of thunder.
Will the sun shine?
Will you reach me in time?
Or back to misery plunder.
Vicious circle, round and round.
Get up, slammed down, get up, down.
I’ll hide amidst torture,
As least it’s familiar,
And I promise not to make a sound.
I see the needle, the stumble in your step.
Eyes roll back, warmth up your neck.
We are all insecure,
How can you be sure?
You’ll die if you overstep.
Put me in a blinding daze,
I don’t want to feel the pain.
Yes, I am running,
Coward? Maybe.
I tried to burn a flame.
I’m not made of china, I don’t easily break.
I am purely liquified so don’t make that mistake.
I won’t hold together,
Unless you cage me in,
Come and get me Lucifer, how much more can I take in?
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
She's expected to be strong,
She's expected to be the glue,
To the broken glass,
She's not expected to cry,
She's not expected to scream.
But in reality,
She's weak,
She's the broken glass,
She cries almost every night,
She holds in her screams,
But her mind is screaming.
She's expected to be nice,
By Almost every person she meets,
She's expected to be more than that,
She's expected not to be rude.
But in reality,
She's not as nice as much anymore,
She avoids people more than she should,
She's says she “okay” though,
just Not as she should
She's expected to be there for her friends,
She's expected to listen and give advice,
Not to complain or need advice,
To have the perfect life and relationships.
But in reality,
She's drifting away,
She listens, but not fully,
She needs to complain sometimes but never dose,
she is falling apart.
She's expected to have the perfect family,
No divorce, no lies, no backstabbing,
Nobody trying to hurt anyone,
No abuse, no fighting, no drugs
But in reality,
Her parents are divorced, her mom was beat,
sister ***** dad wants nothing to do with her,
her mom is married to someone new, who has more kids that is put over her, her mom was taken from her for a year and came back a completely different person, her mother steals, Her bio-father is a compulsive liar, her sisters put her down everyday, Her biological dad ***** her sister, He tried getting her mom to get rid her.
She's expected to be close to her sisters,
No fighting, no yelling, Glued to the hip,
Inseparable.
But in reality,
They fight constantly, She can't stand them,
They're the reason, Why she's so sad now,
She's expected to not cut, She's expected to not have scars,
Not to be depressed, Not to be addicted to such a wretched thing.
But in reality,
She's been cutting for years,
And was almost two years clean,
Because she wanted people to stop jugeding.
She has scars all around her thigh,
more on her wrist.
She's addicted to cutting, She's itching to,
But her mother doesn't think she is,
“If you really wanted to die you would be gone
You only do it because you want attention, and lashing out.”
That's what her mother says.
Little do they know,
That their perfect little girl
Is slipping away,
Soon, She'll will be gone, and they will miss her.
She will be expected to come back but she won’t.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
When I was younger we moved from place to place. I remember, even from a young age, worrying about where we would lay our heads after we left this place. I remember yall being at home a lot but not being around us. I remember you both going into rooms with people, that I met for the first time, and you all spending hours together with a locked door. Sometimes afterwards, I remember staying up late doing crafts and playing games until the clock hit 3am. I remember being able to do pretty much anything I wanted to do. I remember waking up crying and finding comfort that you both where still awake. I remember the house smelling bad. I remember you telling me to lie to social workers about things. Like if there was powders in my house or if I have smelt any bad smells or even about how yall act.
It wasn't until I started getting older that I realized that you both were on drugs. I started to realize that the reason you both where at home is because you did not have a job. I realized that is why we had to move so many times. I realized that you went to your room to hide the drugs from us. We knew they were bad. I realized the new friends that mommy and daddy made were not friends at all but drug dealers and inhibitors.
It took even longer for me to realize that pain pills and maraujana were not the only drugs you where doing. I began to pay attention in class when they spoke to us about drugs. I knew that both of your reactions didn't add up. One day I found a **** pipe wrapped up and hidden in plain sight. I can still feel the anger that rolled out of me that day. I remember wanting to bash it across the wall and walk out. I knew that I'd get hurt by dad if I did that. I walked away and left it.
That's when I realized that the reason you where still up when I woke up from bad dreams is because you could not go to sleep. That when you wanted me to lie about any white substances that is why.
I am not angry at either of you. I am thankful. I have pushed myself. I will continue to push myself. Not only for myself but for my future family.
And mom I am proud of how far you have come in the last 5 years.
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC