I want to talk about me.

I got to an age, an awkward one,

But an age to learn responsibility.

To still have fun,

But in smaller amounts.

I want to talk about work.

Starting at age 14.

It was suppose to be easy,

It was suppose to be for me,

It wasn’t suppose to be for them.

I couldn’t let them down.

I want to talk about home.

Home is loved ones,

Sitting close, laughing, crying.

Everything is together.

Home is where I can’t go.

I want to talk about my dad.

I love him with all of heart

But I won’t forget the pain.

I won’t forget the trouble,

All of which he caused.

I want to talk about,

Why,

Why all of these things matter.

We all looked up to my dad.

Wanting, begging, pleading,

For his attention.

We never got it.

Our mom’s we did but it wasn’t the same.

He left us for games, beer, and silence.

He left us far behind.

But yet so nearby it hurts.

I want to talk about my mom..

Practically raised four kids,

No help from dad.

Not after moving here.

She only asked for help,

But got it from the daughter,

She didn’t birth.

Then the responsibility moved,

Changing its course to her eldest,

Me.