[A jail for the juvenile child.] | Teen Ink

[A jail for the juvenile child.]

May 19, 2010
By Anonymous

I missed you when you went away,
Didn’t you know that would happen?
That when the sunlight swept across my face in the morning,
I would realize I was lonely and without you?
There would be no one to walk with
Or argue with
No one to fight over a flimsy worthless t-shirt with.
I have other friends and sisters, yes,
But, no one is you.

Didn’t you know this would happen?
When you made the choice to forget and decided
Not to try to get better, like me,
That’s the one thing you didn’t look up to me for,
I gave up
But it wasn’t because I wanted to,
It was maturity and realization,
I saw it wasn’t worth it.
But you refuse to be healed,
And so no one can heal you
Not when your stubborn chin juts from your jaw
In defiance of the help and love
Everyone tries to provide you with
To establish a norm in this household so
We can all move on with our lives because
Not everything is about you.

But, for me, a lot of it is.

They say they’ll abandon you.
You’ve pushed them so far their hearts can’t take it,
And yes, I know it’s your life,
It was my life too.
But you have to consider who loves who—
Do you really want to pain the people who have saved your a**
For fifteen years and coming?
They should mean more than that to you,
To the point at which you should at least try
To appease their pained cries of distress
At not being able to fix one of their own children
Because and only because
You will not let them.

Me?
I’ll never abandon you.
You will be my best friend until gray hair
Peaks at the sunlight from around the edges of our hoodies
And we are still neighborhood hoodlums
At fifty-something of age.
To anyone,
A comical idea,
But for you and I
Reality.

You have no idea how I ached for your company
While you were trapped in that sterile place
Where at night all your possessions where locked in a metal cabinet
And they fed you barely edible food,
Allowing one phone call a night
And I rushed to tell you all about my day
Tears stinging my eyes as you said you had to go.
Now you’re finally out and I see you more than a visit now and then
But the cuts still occasionally
“Appear” on your wrist
And I can’t believe you’d still risk the pain
When you know they can take you from me again
You utter words like “Joint Suicide,”
And I’m not sure I heard you right…
Don’t you know I’d miss you?


The author's comments:
For my sister.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.