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A Family Dinner
The food is cold and over cooked.
burnt and tasteless impossible to swallow.
It resembles the look on my mothers face.
Crushed beat down, broken and above all tasteless.
her posture screams heart ache. it wasn't her fault the food was over cooked.
Its the step fathers of mine who locked her out of the house, because he was in a drunk rage.
Broken plates and silverware are littered across the kitchen. Its not easy picking up the pieces of this life
Memories attached to everything broken, its an impossible heart withering clean up.
Its a quite dinner, you can feel the tension in the room,
it actually makes you numb, allowing the burnt food to go down easier.
I do my best to show my appreciation and eat this horrible food,
I don't mention the taste or really show any sign of remorse for anyone's actions during this "scenario"
Tell you the truth its an every other night ocurrance, I have no emotions left to really feel.
It shouldn't be this way. but this is how I was raised. broken or not it's all i know.
There is no escaping this, its been about eight years of this, but even more than that its been this my whole life.
I should be a specialist in failed marriage and I am never had one myself. Its afflicting and constricting.
I should hate this, or at least try to make things better,
its hard when you see a defeated person everyday who is supposed to raise you.
I haven't been the best of sons, I am not perfect I made terrible choices myself.
But I keep finding myself blaming this home or broken family to why I try to escape.
Or to the reason why I believe nothing lasts forever.
Hell, it seems like this pain is just inherited in the family.
Like a sick family curse, I am not trying to be dramatic
But these situations are sporadic and unrelenting defeating and dissolving
I now so, for it has done so to me, as I watch this family fight over possessions
once owned to my grandmother who is on her last years of her life,
with her mind so diluted she no longer knows my name along with the rest of the world.
but where is the respect? or honor? All I witness is hostility and betrayal
Am I to be them, I am trying to fight it.
But I just became this isolated narcissistic destructive bound kid
with a jar full of hearts he broke he collects to maybe resurrected his own,
but i am riddled with guilt of my very existence, and try to make what do of this pretty little mess.
as I burn the bridges of relationships and wrinkle the fabric of my own conciseness
witch is no longer sane as I talk back to myself and refuse to forgive or forget
as everything I touch these ashes of everything I touch that just blows away in the wind
I walk alone in denial that I am fine and that I am doing ok and I am on track
when I am lying to myself so much I almost believe it,
Its hard to understand, or to find a way to receive any sympathy
witch is long over do so I reluctantly and unfortunately
just spontaneously became this suicidal head case.
It's hard to say sorry, its hard to show mercy.
impossible to show kindness, I am just fighting myself.
keeping me alive by destroying anything I seem to make me feel vulnerable.
because i refuse to end up being what I was raised around.
but i look in the mirror and its all I see,
This hardened soul with no remorse
willing to destroy anything
no matter if its mine or yours
Only if I could live on the other side of the mirror
and see the outside perspective
of this fucked up message
that I keep to myself
fighting myself to get up and fight this
but I already lost, I was lost the day I was born
and brought into this broken home
witch shows little love and compassion.
all i want is compassion.
