I am the girl who lived in the small trailer.

The cramped trailer, home to 5.

With the pool that was crushed in the backyard,

And the boring swing set where I loved to hide.


I am the girl who stayed in the lady’s sight.

I grew up at my neighbor’s house.

When my mother worked nights,

And my father was “too cool” to take care of a kid.


I am from the “make me laugh” family,

The “pick me up” and “be yourself” family.

“Stop crying and man up!” family.

The “you’re doing it for attention!” family.

I am the “poser” of the family.

“Make the ‘Are you talking to me’ face!” again family.


I live with my parents to this day,

But in 2010 my brother drove away.

He went to North Carolina,

His mom let him stay.

But it destroyed me in many ways.

When I figured out he couldn’t be there,

For the important days.

My games and the random movie fights,

“I wanna pick the movie this time!”

The candles and moon lit nights.


I am from the bad weather,

The scary strikes of lightning and the pouring rain.

I used to sit in the dark alone when the power went out.

I was scared,

Of how much it reminded me.

The bolts of lightning like anger,

And the rain like my mother’s tears.

But now I go outside

To look at the lightening strikes,

Because I find it sort of relating to…my life.


I suffer from depression,

Although it really sucks.

Having to tell people I’m fine,

I find myself lying to them

but it’s kind of luck.

Luck? Wow, that sounds rude.

My apologies, really, but the truth hurts.

And if I were to say,

“I’m never okay, I hurt myself mentally everyday.”

I’d be sent off to the hospital and probably…

Well … maybe I’d be better off that way.


I am the girl that hates walking in rooms with lots of people,

I hate all eyes on me,

And as I read this poem to you,

I’m terrified and shaking inside.

I am from the house with Cliff.

He stayed in the basement all-alone.

I would tell you why but he only gave me pure silence.

He would draw in the basement with fine tip sharpies.

The scent when I use markers reminds me all the time,

Of when I would do laundry and finally,

I had the realization that our family was never really fine.


Now I am the one who can’t sleep at night.

Too stressed out about family thoughts.

Maybe I just might,

Be the one who can sleep through family fights.

I’m in P-TECH with people I call family,

Because my home family was never really fine.

I love them to death, both families indeed,

But when i’m at school,

I forget all of the bad things.

When I get home I stay in my room,

Taking after Cliff… it’s not really cool.

To this day, he still isn’t very happy,


But the person I want to be is nothing but extraordinary.

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LutherSeahand's picture

Like nothing else, a heavy

Like nothing else, a heavy heart paints the most extraordinary images.



muneer's picture

nice poem

Reading this one

touched my heart

I can only say

That you'r really



allets's picture


Haunt worthy memories in family closets are for occasionally sealing off and moving on. Reunions are rough, but catching up is a wild card. I see family at outings and play bid whist where the conversation is toned down and less hiphoppy. Families. - :D