The day one's father stops coming into their room after an argument to give them a hug and assure me that he still loves them is the day that their view of a family will change forever. Leaving a colder image instead.
"I will forever be loyal to my family, but that does not mean that I truly love them," was a mantra that she would live by forever.
You will be wronged by many people through your life. From that person who cut in front of you in line to the person who picked up that hundred dollar bill you dropped at the corner and decided that you were just too far ahead to return it.
But being hurt by family, flesh and blood, shows how worthless loyalty and commitment is to the people who should view and maintain it with the utmost respect. They don't.
You learn this through the sound of your brother's strained voice, the sharpness of gravel pressing against your cheek as he provokes your mother into hitting you once again.
You hope this pain will fill his tank of righteous anger. He will never believe your pain could compare to his. His of pampering and the love of all. Deep down you know it won't.
Secrets kept deep inside your heart, spilling out because heart can't contain sadness and anxieties when cracks are letting them flow freely. Vocal cords ripping from throat with the truth of hate. Endless.
The condemnation of his words hurt more than the purple of bruises that will keep the blessing of sleep away for days to come. Thinking is almost impossible when one is asleep.
Pillows too much pressure for the beautiful canvas of bruises that travel from brow to jaw. Jaw to collarbone. Collarbone to heart. Heart that is barely beating because the strength that once came with happiness is slowly slipping away.
Trembling fingers can no longer grasp the truth of your words and keep them safely tucked away within the crevices of your worn heart.
Secrets that your mother, the woman who devoted nine months of her life to you to prove her love. A love meant to tear the world apart piece by piece of need be so that she could keep you safe.
Not even she can keep you safe from the truth of her love, her hate, her hand traveling towards your ruby cheeks. Once red from innocence, now red from the marks she leaves to prove her love, her hate.
It collided fast and hard.
You do not fight back. You know that it's just her hate, her love, showing itself to you. Her loyalty shown through dark splotches on delicate skin.
Father must truly enjoy the scheme of blues and purples and greens. He helps the color grow. He will not stand for you.
Your first word may have been "Daddy," but the last thing you think when looking at him is your first word. "Coward," is the truth your heart rings out. Purples. Blues. Greens.
Once known as a protecter, now you will not lean on one that is not steady. No one is truly steady with liquid courage running through their veins. Tricking a heart that only knows truths into believing lies.
This is the reason that walls and counters were support when learning to walk as a child, just as they are now when truth is too much for he body to bare.
The heart's truth speak of your brother being your keeper. He keeps back and watches me lean on walls. I keep him out of trouble. He will keep taking my dreams of a family and storing them inside of himself. His heart's truth often sounds the same as my parents, if only an octave lower.
He stares. Your eyes plead for help. Mom would not hit him. Eyes are empty. His truth hurts. The sight of his back is worse then the hand defending on you once again.
In the end, you struggle to your room. Walls the best support. You sit. Liquid truth falls from your eyes. Gliding from eye to jaw. Jaw to collarbone. Collarbone to heart. Heart that has no more truth to give. Eyes emotionless.
The clock hand moves from one number to the next and there is still no sign of your father's truth. Sober. Drunk. They may be the same.
With no one else awake, you come to a familiar conclusion. Common occurrences leave you empty. Tired.
Restless sleep finds you even though warmth has not. Love. Hate. A father's hug will not surround you tonight.
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