Rainbow Poetry

🍭Me in the Making

Written on 10/17/17

February 14, 1999
God began to form me,
In her womb.
My mother's womb.

She tried to resist,
Jumping up and down,
She persists.
But it was a me in the making,
And there's no stopping this.

I grew and grew,
And grew full-term.

November 17, 1999
Deep inside,
I wanted to hide.
I wasn't ready for the world...
I believe.

But they forced me to come,
So I couldn't run.
I was born,
And torn.

Thus began, my journey of life.

They say I was a good baby,
Sweet and cute,
But I'm glad I don't remember
The life I was in.
Just the mere thought
Makes me now distraught.

My mother and I,
We could not fly,
We were trapped.

He was wrong
He was a pond
He droundt us day and night.

He was...
Smoking
Drugging
Drinking
Cheating
Yelling
Cursing

He was...
Beraggled
Sick
Schizophrenic
Bipolar
Moody
Hallucinating
Paranoid

He was...
Sick.

He is...
My biological father,
I'm afraid.

You are...
My biological father,
I am afraid.
And you are sick.

I remember the fall,
Me, all,
In a lake,
Was it my fate?
No, I'm still here.

I remember the dogs,
Jumping like frogs,
On each other...
On me...
Fighting and barking.

I remember the smoke,
The cheetah print pajamas,
The smell,
It stunk.

I remember these things,
But this too,
I remember.
I remember the bacon,
At the restaurant.
How you loved me,
Even though you didn't know how to show it,
Because you are sick.
Biological father,
I know you've never done much right,
But I don't want to fight.
I still love you.

I remember saying yes.
Adoptive father.
To you I have given parental rights.
This is the poem, of my life.

I grew and grew
And grew some more.
Then little brother comes, I'm almost four.

I'm a happy child,
No longer living wild.