My Plead For Relief

By , Newport News, VA
These thoughts are swirling around in my head,
leaving me stuck in the storm. The memories,
the hopes,
the broken promises,
the feelings.
So many different feelings.
I don’t know which ones to act on. So many people talking,
do they know that I’m not listening?
I don’t care.
At all.
I want to go away.
I want to leave her,
shes lost her mind,
all of her sanity,
washed away by alcohal.
Now she welcomes them to our house Mr. and Mrs. Alcohalic Mr. & Mrs. Ruin everyones life.
Or as I know them, Grandma and Step Grandfather.
Him.
Grandfather.
Idiot.
Man who tricked his ill mother into giving him every last penny to her name,
man who tore apart my family,
man who caused his beautiful wife to be less then nothing,
while we all worry for her,
he laughs under his breath,
for its all part of his greedy devious plan.
My mother,
worries most of all.
That causes the problems at home.
On top of he who cant live without being high,
Man who will in-hail,
snort,
inject,
and swallow anything to help him escape for a short time.
My brother.
Gone now.
Rehab again, although who says that will help?
It hasn’t before.
On the other side of my life, the outside of my home side.
The boy sits there with his arms around plenty of girls.
Picking and choosing his victims, laughing at my tears.
When hes bored,
or looking for something real,
he finds his way back to me,
and without a thought of regret, without a pain in my chest or a smack to his face,
I welcome him with open arms.
I love him,
because I can’t help it.
You cant control it.
It’s just there.
She hates me, my sister.
The girl I grew up playing barbies with now hates me because her boyfriend blames me for their break up.
This house,
is falling down around me, shouldn’t I feel safe?
I should be able to live in this home without feeling such anxiety. There has to be a way out because these pills are not protection. Her actions,
leave bruises,
though she never lays a hand on me.
His motions leave scars,
though he never comes near me.
Her words are knives,
she stabs me with every sentence. His eyes are bullets,
shooting through me as I pass him by in the halls.
I’m waiting for relief.





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ArinellWingheart said...
Mar. 2, 2011 at 8:35 pm
Powerful. That's all I can think of to say.
 
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