I was raised by the needle,

and all of her best friends.
The little white girl,
the sweet dark lady,

and her best friend and foe,
the dirty girl.

I was raised in a bottle,

with more of her friends.
They never made her happy,
but it was her life to binge.

I was raised by the hand,

never missing the mark.
Leaving bruises on my back,
my face, my arms.

I was raised by a liar,

and all of her schemes.
Why did they believe you,
when I know they heard my screams?

I was raised in a world,

where truth is hard to find.
Lying gets you attention,
while innocence slowly dies.