When the music's off and the room gets empty

When is it my turn?

My mother and my grandma,

All of them had a future.

They had a lover.

They had a child.

They knew what was next.

They knew who was next.

But it ended in abuse.

It ended in late-night drinking.

It ended in divorce, and it ended in hurt.

I never want that for me,

But it is my curse.

It is my burden,

And it is my future.

When is it my turn to love?

When is it my turn to know?

When is it my turn to control the waves
Where a sea crashes and turns?

Because I am tired.

I do not want to do this.

I do not want to be here.

I want to be home.

If home is a person, I have not met them,
And I want to know when it will be my turn.

Their wounds are etched into my skin,
Thin lines of white and red.

Their regrets are heard through my walls.

Was it the responsibility of a child that destroyed them?
If so, I would gladly not be here.

I'm sorry I'm the one to continue the curse.
And I'm sorry you had to raise a curious child.

Car drives between every holiday,
Packed bags every week.

Questions of why.
Tears of my fault.

Why was I born to a family that isn't together?
Why do I have two Christmases?
Why do I have to tell my teachers
That I don't have two parents?
Because in truth, only one was there.

And I'm sorry if I blame you.
And I'm sorry if I need to be quiet.
And I'm sorry you were just a child.

But why did you give me this burden?
Why did you have a child you cannot hold in four arms?
I was not a band-aid. I was five.
I was touch-deprived.

When is it my turn to be the one cared for?
It hurt me too.
But it hurt you more.

So I apologize for what was not done by me.
I take up your burden,
And I raise your children.
After all, the curse is mine,
And it was my fault.

-August

wasn't really trying on this poem, just writing what came to my mind to just let it out<3

stay safe! MWAH!<3