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Growing up as a kid.
I got abused,for nothing I did.
I ran and I hid.
But the abuse,was always relived.
Crack head brother.
I wish I had another.
It was the drugs they say.
If they could've been me in those days.
If they were in my shoes.
If they were getting black and blue.
They'd change their point of view.
I remember locking the door.
He alway manged to break through.
I remember the rage in his eyes.
Anticipating the black and blue.
I remember getting kicked in the stomach.
Feeling stressful and getting sick.
I hated him he was such a fucking little prick.
I remember bloody busted lip.
Thinking what I ever did to deserve this.
I did nothing to deserve this.
I was his punching bag.
If blood is thicker then water.
Then why did he choose me?
To take his anger out on and batter.
He wonders why I'm not by his side.
I'm so sick of his shit and lies.
He has apoligized, but I won't compromise.
I could never forget what he has done.
Growning up with him as a brother,
wasn't all that fun.
He wears his happy-face.
Pretending that none of this ever took place.
I look at him in disgust.
Theres a line drawn between us.
He tries to cross that line.
But I don't think hes worth my time.
I remember how he punched,battered, and shoved.
Oh this isn't brotherly love.
I didn't deserve this.
When I think of it I can't help but get pissed.
He wears that happy-face, that buddy-buddy mask.
My forgiveness, he knows not to ask.
I rememeber the black and blue.
Feeling hopeless and like there wasn't anything I could do.
Just waiting for the punches to stop.
As I held myself sat quietly and rocked.
I remember how he punched, kicked and shoved.
This was the complete opposite of brotherly love.