I keep telling myself, it’s my fault.

But the truth is it’s not.
Everybody tells me no matter what the situation is,
No one deserves to be abused physically or mentally.
I try to get your approval in anyway possible.
But it’s like trying to win the lottery.
I’m sorry I’m not the coolest kid in school.
I’m sorry I’m not the straight A student.
I’m sorry I’m not the varsity athlete you’ve always wanted me to be.
But I’m not sorry for what I said.
You may say you are sorry.
However, you cannot take back the hurtful words you’ve tattooed into my brain.
Nor can you take back the scars or bruises you’ve inflicted to my body.
For I will never ever forget what you have done to me.
Although I’ve received billions of beatings from your frustrations and ignorance.
I still call you dad.
I still say I love you.
I still forgive you every time you turn my face into a bruised apple.
Every time you beat me you try to justify it to make it all right.
I don’t know why I haven’t called the police.
Maybe it’s because the results will do more bad than good..
Or maybe it’s because I have a four-year-old brother that thinks the world of you.
I guess I just don’t know what I’m missing out on.
I wish things were different and you actually cared about my feelings.
You make me feel like a helpless little kid.
That I’m worthless and will never be good enough.
But the truth is I have wandered off of the path of love.
And onto the broken road of hate and despair.
Some times I fantasize about would it would be like to run away.
To be free.
To be away from all the hate and anger you cause me.
To have the option to choose and decide what I want.
But every time I plan to do it I always talk my self out of it.
Sometimes late at night I ask myself, why me?
Why do I have to be the victim of an abusive dad? 
Is it because somehow somewhere God knows that I can remain strong.
Like he’s telling me, “Stay strong through this troubled time in my life to protect the one who is incapable.”
Why couldn’t I be one of the lucky kids who got the awesome parents?
My grandmother use to tell me everything happens for a reason.
I have yet to figure out what that reason is.
But the only thing I have figured out is how to hide the horrible life that I am living.
I am seeing the true nature of my suffering.
It may be in vain, but I can look passed that to create a safe place for a little innocent soul so he may thrive and alter his destiny.
This is the reason for my selfless actions each and every day.
I will endure my pains in silence just to hear the laughter of a small child’s happiness.