Injurious
You see, this stuff only occurs when I start to care for someone.
The pain, the ache, the suffrage I am put through, all for the people I love.
It is rare, that I come across this kind of act,
because I am too full of hatred, to become of contact.
Where I now carefully peel the bandage from my hand,
revealing shades of brown and red.
I know I must hide this from my Uncle,
Who will see where I have just bled.
He swings the malicious door,
Only to reveal my secret.
Knowing I am hiding something,
Knowing that I must keep it…
He questions my every move, and I answer every one of them.
With a lie.
But I’m only doing this for Bronte,
Who I have feelings for deep down inside.
Why am I wired this way? To hate everyone that comes in my path?
Does my Uncle really care for me?
Only a little more time and I will release my wrath,
And show him what he doesn’t want to see.
Have you seen the bruises, the scars, the emotional damage I have been put through?
The baggage, the weakening, hoping I would be rescued.
I have bullies, I have people that don’t really like me.
But I can’t help it, if I am only protecting myself from the harm they don’t know about.
Bronte is giving my hope, and courage each day.
With the help of her brother, I stood up to that kid.
I am grateful for actually caring about him.
I think he’s worth every last bit of me.
A couple days, weeks, months go by…
And something is nagging me, I just can’t seem to realize why.
I rush home, and I can already feel the pain of my brother Cody.
Uncle Hoyt is drunk .
I can see it in his eyes, and it can’t be denied..
Next morning- I refuse to live in this house again.
He starts to torment me, and all of a sudden my legs grow weak.
He’s having a seizure, and because I still care for him, I feel this shock to my body too.
I’m full of trepidation… What else is there to do?
I let go. I’m done. I stop caring for him.
My body strength starts to return, slowly, but returning.
I walk. I run, because I am no longer furious.
I’m free, and yes, I am no longer injurious.