A life

My earliest memory is from when I was three,
thinking my mother would hang herself, though she couldn’t see me.
I stood in the garden watching through a glass door,
wondering if I would be motherless by age four.

Flash forward five years and it’s me wanting to die,
my dad beats us with a belt and I try not to cry –
‘cos it makes him angry so what’s the use?
Grabbing me by the hair, he pulls my plait loose –
down, down, I tumble…

At sixteen, still naive, I’m really a mess,
writing poems that are morbid, designed to depress;
‘cos isn’t that how life works, only a game?
One that you lose at, again and again.
So I think ‘to hell with the future’ and do what I please,
wild and reckless, clued on now, using my body to tease.

It makes me feel something, but does not make me feel whole,
So I start smoking drugs and drinking and I’m on a destructive roll.
I run away to feel alive and have a gun aimed at my face,
innocence gone, running scared in an unfamiliar place.

Twenty now, all grown up full of youthfulness and charm,
then I return home, pick up the blade and continue to self harm.
‘Cos I’m still unable to deal with all the pain,
tears are falling, and outside it begins to rain.

Then I meet him and instantly I know he’s the one,
emotions overpowering me, I cant take it, I just want to run.
He can’t love me, he can’t it’s too good to be true,
So I attack him and hurt him, if only he knew –
about my past
maybe we would last
instead of ending up here.

Here I am, nine years on and I’m back to square one.
The cheating and violence just can’t be undone.
I trusted him, worshiped him and it was nothing but lies,
leaving two children, I’m all alone and it’s me who sits and cries.
Where is the justice and where will it end?

Will the legacy continue with my babies as they grow?
Wait, on second thought, I don’t want to know.

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