Life, Not Roses

In Which The Poem is My Life

at first life
my father and mother were smiley
happy,
cutest to be loving one another
dad got a job
and mother stayed at home with me
ticking like a bomb until my father got home from his late shifts,
until his shifts got later and bedtime got earlier
mother started frequently screaming at father after his job
i just assume now,
he was caught cheating
or smoking at a lounge with 21 year old girls
but then i didn't understand
why mother was never happy with his work
why she slowly stopped paying less attention to me
she was always hovering over dad
like a gas leak was spilling out of her eyes
like my father was a flamethrower
and i was just a old piece of crushed up paper

in which im never happy

my mother had stopped paying attention,
my father was busy at work,
or working other girls
so i was frequently caged in a room
with the same episode of a kids show.
i don't remember what is was,
not because it was so long ago,
but because i would never watch it
instead i would talk to my stuffed animals
and bang heads on glass to make noise
or break expensive items
loose priceless jewelry
because any attention was gold
and it wasn't too bad
having a life where there was no responsibility
just me and my stuffed animals
whispering about what to break next.
i didnt realize why my behavior had switched so drastically
but i didn't care
because it was fun.

another way to love

in 7th grade,
i had gained access to the internet
guarding it with my life
it was my only escape for attention
i started to talk to boys a little older than me
let's say 10-12th grade,
met someone named leo
we met up at a cafe,
when my parents weren't around
not if they cared
like it was if they were a bubble without me
but i didn't need them right?
i had leo.
we started dating for around a month.
first it was kissing,
my first kiss,
but he started to get more intense each time
kept saying i was 'leading him on'
i had no idea what that meant

vengeance - TW MENTIONS OF SA (sorry guys)

one night i decided to have a sleepover with him,
already packed a bag and want to his house
i thought we were just going to kiss or something
nothing serious like he had been planning
he kept trying to unzip my pants
or tug on my shirt
but when i tried to say stop,
or push his hand away,
he got more aggressive
until i pushed him off me
worried of what could've happened
if i didn't run off then

when time ends

the next morning i went to apologize
his parents were there crying,
asking me who i was
and why i was asking for him
they said that when they came home late last night
there was knives sticking out of his throat.

on the other side

that day i learned
never to let anyone in ever again
not my mother
not my father,
who i hadn't seen in ages,
not anyone
so i built a wall around myself
so no one could see me
touch me
head me
it was just me
now that im looking back,
it was me who locked myself in the room
why no one could hear me
why it would hurt more when anyone couldn't hear anymore
it was all me.