The Way It Is

All of it started with

A little piece of paper

A traffic ticket, thrown haphazardly on the table

But maybe it didn't start there

Maybe it started with the what ifs

What if I'd always been rebellious?

But what if I hadn't?

What if it's all my fault

Or what if it's not?

What if I'm a product of my environment?

What if life's a circle?

And children's live what they're taught?

What if I was destined to be the way I was?

What if it's fate?

The door

Slammed!

And I knew

Trouble was a brewing.

Like a witch's caldron

"Myrabelle!" he yelled

"what the hell did you do all day?"

He kicked a dirty towel

Just like he kicks me.

The abuse started before

My fifteen year old memory

Could recall.

Maybe my birth stared it.

Or maybe it started when

My beauty queen mother

The love of my whitetrash father's life

Decided se was better

Than a no good alcoholic

Packed her stuff

And only left me behind

I made three mistakes

That day

Three strikes and you're out

As they say

Mistake number one

Was a stupid decision

That I knew better than

To ever make

I spoke to him

While he was in his

Drunken rage

"Nothing" my voice squeezed

Which, of course,

Was exactly why he wanted to hear

I saw the big hand

Before it sent me

Flying across the dirty kitchen

On a normal day

I could take the

Undeserved beatings

But for some reason

Today was not a normal day

After he sauntered off

Obviously proud of himself

I slid on my gray converses

Laced them up, holding them shut

Just like I held the doors to my old life