I am used to the middle

When I was 4 

I was in the middle of divorce 

Between daddy and mommy

Split I constantly was,

I am in the middle.

The communicator

I am the creaking splintered bridge 

connecting two sides of the river, 

Heads or tails, flipping a coin 

Decide the fate

who’s holiday I spend with.

I blow out two birthday cakes

Instead of one 

I am in the middle 

When I was 13

I was in the middle of the feud

Between my brother and mother

Those days it was like-

both sides of my pillow were warm

Arguments happen every time 

They shared a room,

I am in the middle 

I sympathize with my brother

Perceived his raised eyebrows 

That look in which to say 

our mother is “crazy”.

My mother also would carry a look

p*ssed and furrowed brows 

She calls my brother a jacka**. 

Both now in no contact

And yet, I couldn't fault either- 

my mother or my brother 

I am in the middle 

I am the middlest child,

Between my oldest brother-

And my littlest sister

I am not like them.

I am in the middle 

I was never as self reliant 

as my brother.

Couldn’t navigate the waves, 

Without a compass, telling how so

Nor was I ever free willed  

as my sister.

Maybe its cuz she’s 4

Her tears rain out and complaints

Stomp the floor

I however, 

bottle things in

Like a mother snuggling up a blanket 

tucking her baby in 

Or like tight-packed dirt grave 

Never to see the light again.

While they are aggressive 

I stay passive

A side character in my own movie

I subdue 

A shadow in the crowd

I am in the middle

I am a people pleaser

saying yes to those,

While clenching my teeth

my knuckles turning white 

My mind urging, screaming, NO 

I am in the middle.

I am in the middle

Between two diverging roads

I am the median 

Never the 1st choice 

And it shows

Surprise doesn’t grace my face 

When picked last 

I am in the middle

The middle is where I stand