sometimes your parents weren't who you needed them to be. you were born unto this earth and you loved them with all the stars in your little body.
but they didn't love you with all their stars. or maybe they did, only theirs were tainted with violence or neglect or turbulence.
what can we do with this except to blame ourselves? we were small and how could our little heads have known better?
how does one heal from such a betrayal?
some of us yearn for acknowledgment, but because they weren't who you needed them to be, they never understood the ache you felt.
and some of our parents themselves had parents with crooked stars. maybe it was violent fingers or threatening words or absent hugs.
do we ever heal from such a betrayal? or do we just learn how to manage the sorrow? the kind of sorrow that seeps into your bones and your words and every person you touch.
what is living if not learning how to cope with suffering?
