My Life | Teen Ink

My Life

September 8, 2019
By TMal01 BRONZE, Salem, Massachusetts
TMal01 BRONZE, Salem, Massachusetts
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The Beginning
I remember the flame,
Dancing in bright red
And reflecting against the metal.
 
I remember the hiss and burning smoke
Hitting my nose and causing me to turn away.
The water from the fossette whooshed
As it was immediately turned on soon after.
 
I don’t remember seeing anything,
I had turned away and shut my eyes.
But I could not hide away from what I heard.
My ears were never able to shut away the screams.
I never saw the monster
My mother was so afraid of.
The monster she had kept me away from.
 
I hear he never meant to hurt me,
To leave me as he had been “forced to”.
He wants to reconnect in time,
But time will never make amends
To what I had to be put through.
 
That monster can burn in hell for all I care.
He can rot in a prison cell alone and abandoned.
He can suffer every pain, sorrow, and agony I faced.
I hope he suffers as much as I have.
 

 


Change is Inevitable
I look back and realize I never knew why
Never understood why we left
Never comprehended why my brother couldn’t come with us
Never knew what sat waiting ahead of us
I only understood that this was our home now
That my father wasn’t a good man
and we would be safe here
Even if I didn’t like where that ‘here’ was originally
 
I didn’t want my mother to leave me
when she went to work
She was my only stability in my new life
My grandmother would just let me cry
Eventually, I outgrew it and got over it
 

 


Some Just Can’t Handle Change
I loved being here
In my new home
I thought we’d be close
That she’d be there for me
Cause no one else really was
I thought she’d like the idea of having a sister too
But I was wrong
 
She called me a disease,
And I could see why it seemed that way
In her eyes, I had stolen away her father
But compared to my mother, he was there more
He was really the only one there
But in her eyes, I had ruined her life
 
I had stolen her perfect family
Corrupted it somehow
That I was the enemy to vanquish
I guess some just can’t handle change
 
 

 


Just the Two of US
Though it hurt to get done,
And it was never done tight enough,
I was grateful I still had my dad.
 
Even through the craziness, stress, and frustration
I still had my dad.
He was the one who got me ready for school
He was the one who picked me up
He was the one who put a roof over my head
Food on my plate
Clean clothes on my back.
 
I wasn’t his flesh or blood,
But I was his.
I was his and he told me this every day
Every day when we wished my mom would come home
Every day we wished she was okay in prison
Every day when sometimes it seemed to be too much for him to handle
 
Is it sad that I go back, wishing it could be just the two of us again?
 
 
 
Drink, Click, Snap, Repeat
Drink, Click, Snap, Repeat
How was it to her that a glass and a drug was more important?
Why did it seem to her like I was the bane of her existence?
She was a banshee whenever we tried to approach,
And her aim, even impaired, was still spot on.
 
Drink, Click, Snap, Repeat
I hated seeing her like this, I knew she could be better.
At the time I never realized how much I thought I needed to rely on her
How even though she wished I was never born,
I stood by her side through the majority of it.
 
Drink, Click, Snap, Repeat.
That was her cycle after picking me up from school.
That was her cycle after and before work
That was her cycle even pregnant when I was eight
That was her cycle that I knew would get her killed
Or at least one of us


 
Only Three
The searing pain wouldn’t end
It hurt
It hurt
But no one believed me until they saw it.
 
I couldn’t run, couldn’t fight
“He’s only three,” they said in addition to
“He’ll grow out of it” and “You’re fine”
And my personal favorite: “Suck it up”
 
Are the dark bruises that had formed a sign that I’m fine?
Were the tears and begging not enough for you?
Is hearing me scream and cry out for help as fake as your affection?
Was I considered that less important that you didn’t even bother to check on me?
 
Apparently, anyone can get away with abuse if you have a good enough excuse.
 
 


The Truth Is
When someone like them
Someone who’s hurt you your whole life
Has hurt you to the extent they have
 
When they have such a strong hold on you
That you continue to deal with it
And people wonder why you do it over and over
To the point you’ve gotten tired of explaining
 
The truth is they force you to become dependent
They force you to rely on them and need them
 
Because they made your life hell
And put it back together at the same time
They broke you down to where you hate yourself
And built you back as this incredible person
You cry, scream, and wish you were never born
Only for them to later make you feel so special
 
They manipulate you in any way they can
Sometimes because they can
Mostly because they need you in return
 
The truth is life isn’t black and white
The kindest people can do the cruelest things
And the cruelest people can understand the most
The ones who are supposed to love you
Can push you aside like a useless tool
And try to apologize within the same ten minutes
 
The truth is love can be hatred and vice versa
Because people can make you feel that
They can bring you up
Or tear you down bit by bit until you’re nothing.
They can be the people always by your side
And they can be your worst nightmare
 

 
 
 
 
More Than Once, Death Doth Meet
Sitting and staring at the spot
Wondering and wondering what led me here
I had learned the consequences and dangers
Looking back, I never thought I’d get to this point
 
I thought it would burn or really hurt
But all I got was a sting
I thought it would be messy
But I kept it neat accidentally
I thought I would hate myself afterwards
But I felt better
 
Don’t listen to what they say
They never understood
They never cared
They’ll tell you the opposite of the truth
 
That I’m being needy
That I’m seeking attention
That they don’t understand why I’m like this
That there’s no reason for me to be this way
 
Many never realize the struggle it takes to stop
Many never realize that the situation has gone this far
Many never watch or observe for the signs unless it’s part of their job
Many never care that it escalated too far
Many never believe you until it’s too late
 
 
 
 

 
Name Doesn’t Matter, It Is Happening
Higher than mountains, the emotions build
Over the “stupidest of things” according to others
The end of the tunnel seeming to get smaller and smaller no matter how closer you try to get to it
Most would say it’s not real and that things aren’t as they seem
Well at least they got that right
Because all the public sees is a girl
A girl and her family going on their way
They don’t see the pain the child is experiencing
They don’t see the little hope that this child holds in their small form
No one ever realizes
Until it’s almost too late
 
No one likes to believe when the nicest people get hurt the most
No one likes to think about innocent children being forced to grow up and move on
No one ever asks the right questions
And even if they did, they wouldn’t get an answer
Seems like everyone loves putting labels on things
Unless they are too painful or too terrible to even consider
 
 
 
 
 
Run and Find Warmth
It’s too cold out
The jacket doing nothing to block the wind
Why did I do it?
Why did I decide this?
 
I grew tired of the yelling
The ‘correcting’ as they put it
I grew frustrated with the anger
The blinding rage they held for me
 
I had screwed up
And they had seen
They called me a freak and worthless
They told me I needed to be better
Even though I was giving them my best.
 
The cold concrete I sat upon didn’t help me either
The nice man who let me borrow his phone did
 
I got help
I got out of the cold
I got acceptance
 
But it isn’t hard to truly run away from something like that
And four days later things were basically the same
 
 
Almost six months later it happened again
But this time there was warmth
But the stress was tripled
 
Their yelling
Begging
Screaming
Accusations
I just wanted it to all stop
 
So once more I fell into their trap
But this time things got better
And there is no more need to run
 
 


 
 

College Escape
I didn’t think I would make it
Everyone said I was only book smart
They all knew I would easily make it in
 
But money is rough
Money is hard to come by
College holds many fees and costs
College was far and different
 
But I couldn’t wait to escape
Couldn’t wait to no longer be stuck there
Couldn’t wait to find new friends and finally
FINALLY
Be free
 
 

 


He’s Gone
The one phone call changed my life
I couldn’t breath
I couldn’t hear
I couldn’t process
 
All I could feel was my heart as it stopped
All I could hear was a static in my ear
All I could do was try to not fall onto the floor
He couldn’t be gone
 
The one person who always accepted me
The one person who always loved me
Who it didn’t matter who I was
Who I loved
What I chose to do
 
He was gone
He was gone?
How could he have been gone?
Why did he leave me?
How could he have just talked to me that night
And now be gone?
 
It finally sank in as I hit the floor
He was gone
 
 
 
 


 
One Year Down
Seemed like the first year was the hardest
At least, the first semester sure was.
At least now I had a small way out,
A small way to be my true self and not worry
I’ve always been book smart
That wasn’t the issue
My mental health went down the first semester,
Where I wasn’t eating
And didn’t want to leave my room.
But I pushed through and found support
I found my people and my passion
One year down, three to go
 
 

 


Pretty Face
You have such pretty eyes
You have such a pretty smile
You look so young
You’re so pretty
 
Don’t waste such a pretty face
 
You’re such a sweetheart
You’re such a hard worker
You’re so polite
You’re so nice
 
Don’t waste such a pretty face
 
Doesn’t matter where I work
Doesn’t matter what I do
Doesn’t matter how I look
Doesn’t matter how I speak
Doesn’t matter to anyone
 
They all say:
Don’t waste such a pretty face


The author's comments:

This piece is a small collection of a few poems about my life. They include events such as my depression, attempts at suicide, my mother's struggle with addiction, my sister's hate for me growing up, the loss of my grandfather, and running away. Everything written here is true and told from my perspective of each event. 
 
 
 


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.



Smith Summer

Parkland Speaks

Campus Compare