Her (and other poems)

Vent Poem

Ok, this is purely a long, probably sucky, vent poem. Maybe I'll cone back and clean it up another day. Anywho, here it is.

A child clings to her mothers finger,
Weak hands gripping tight.
Her first scream was a roar,
One seemingly of anger, not fright.
Mother and father were there,
Though no ring adorned their hand,
Their wedding not for three more years,
One their daughter would attend.
Little flower girl,
With hair as bright as fire,
Directed by her cousin,
The flower girl prior.
What a happy day,
Of course not to last,
Daddy wasn't good at staying with mom,
Though the girl wouldn't know until it was long passed.
Two weeks before the wedding,
Three days after,
Maybe that's why the fighting,
Got ever louder.
A few years flew past,
Her came second grade,
The girls first poem book is formed,
To her, published and made.
Just look in the library,
In her little classroom,
There's a little paper book titled,
"A Book of Heart Broken Poems".
The yelling got ever louder,
Dad was home less and less,
And even when he was there,
Her attention she couldn't get.
His job took up his time,
He soon became the joke,
A simple "Dad did it",
And any argument was broke.
A little while later,
Mom's tummy was getting wide,
Holding a tiny little bundle,
The newest family member inside.
Excitement filled the house,
A little brother on the way!
The girl read "Oh the Places You'll Go"
To Mom's tummy near every day.
And then he finally came,
Her little brother was here!
But not all was perfect
Not for the little boy I fear.
It seemed he always screamed,
Unless he was eating or asleep,
And things between Mom and Dad were tense,
The rift almost complete.
The boy would, much later, be diagnosed,
With Asbergers, Austism.
And Mom and Dad moved to different houses,
By the little boys second Autumn.
No more yelling,
No more fights,
Not where the kids could see,
No longer breaking the dead of the night.
In with a friend Mom, girl, and boy went,
A city over, a new school,
And only fifth grade,
For the ten year old girl.
And in this little house,
A little girl with black hair,
Was added to the family,
Though her father with the other children she didn't share.
But that didn't last,
Only one year there,
By the next January,
They moved to a new somewhere.
This was a house that creaked,
And was half rotted out,
Full of ghouls and ghosts to the girl,
And things weren't even well without.
The family was fighting,
And things had gotten bad,
This is when the girl's
First suicidal thoughts began.
A taunting voice had formed,
Telling her there was no reason for her to be there.
The voice almost won,
Only beat back by her fear.
Mom wasn't doing well,
Stress and sickness pressing down her throat,
Two little siblings were struggling,
With help, people gave a "can't" or a "won't".
So the girl found a new poison,
A way to escape the first,
And dissociation,
Became her reality the most.
A world shapeless and safe,
completely formed of grey,
A place she could hide,
Until things were again ok.
Again, within a year,
A new place to stay,
Mom had fallen in love,
And he seemed ok.
They lived in his one bedroom house,
For just a small time,
And then they found another,
That was to be theirs, mine.
And there they stayed for two years,
And the boy started school,
The girl was in seventh,
And did her best to understand the rule,
Of these emotions,
She'd so denied,
Now come back,
All at once, and no distinction arrived.
The happy couple,
Well, they didn't last long,
And soon the girl,
Didn't quite know what to make of her mom.
What once was her only rock,
Understanding and kind,
Seemed to develope... something,
Something like a dark side.
Through the next two years,
The girl learned crying wasn't allowed,
She learned words from her mom hurt,
Whether quiet or loud.
She learned to hide away,
In the bathroom or her room,
And completely hide the tears,
Surrounding herself in her own little dome.
A perfect robot,
Reacting only on her social ques,
But one everyone,
Seemed much happier to amuse.
They moved again,
To a house on the hill,
And things between mom and her love,
Had got worse still.
So nice while it lasted,
What was supposed to be home,
Only lasted a year,
Threat driving them out on its own.
And the concept of good and bad,
Of right and wrong,
Became so very muddled,
As well as the concept of love.
The new house wasn't a house,
Lucky low income apartments.
Dad was around more,
Things seemed to get better for a bit.
And then, despite the promises,
Mom's love was back,
So Dad retreated,
And things went back down the bad track.
As things got worse,
So did moms mood,
Throwing insults and barbs at the girl,
And calling when she finally fell silent abuse.
Because Mom was a saint,
Mom did nothing wrong,
The girl, now in high school,
Must be the one wrong.
"You just don't care"
Was a favorite weapon,
"I know you hate me"
Her other favorite one.
And god the girl worked hard,
She tried and tried,
To stay good with her mom,
And keep her satisfied.
But finally, after it all,
The girl figured not trying was best,
Less of her words thrown back as barbs,
Less poison to ingest.
She had battled through the dream state,
Fights with the depression still,
But to her mom she's given all she can,
And all she thinks she will.