Evil, Thanks For The Poem.

Purging the soul of some baggage from childhood.

All my young life all I ever wanted was your love

Some form of encouragement that I am valid

A few kind words, a nod of admiration

That my birth, was cause for celebration

 

A sign that I, as your daughter, existed

Worthy, somewhere in the chasms of your cold heart

No matter how hard I tried, you resisted

I was naively loyal but never good enough for the part

 

Instead your words were filled with hate

With all your daily torments and taunts

You said I was unlovable, a mistake

Your words… my life… they haunt

 

The bruises, they do fade eventually

The pain your vile words caused me

I will never be able to forget

My pillow can’t forgive you, all the hurt I wept

 

The empty bottles bleeding tears

As you suck out every drop

Collect the bottles from all the years

That the hurting never stopped

 

You could build a mountain

Out of all the bottled glass

You could never count them

For you haven’t drunk your last

 

Just leave me alone, your “mothering” has no use

Your “hard” life, you always use as the excuse

“Oh poor me”, it’s always everyone else to blame

Oh the other side of my family? Only a father with no name

 

Hurting and beating are not your only crimes

 “I’ve changed” you say for the millionth time

A sentence I always hear, but you’ll always be the same

For I am just a name, responsibility, you will never claim

 

For your only daughter, nor the pain that you caused

All the scars and bruises, still visible on my soul

Your disgusting behaviour awarded you applause

I pay the price you see; on me you took your toll

 

You kicked me on the streets at age 13

But you broke me the day that I was born

With all your empty bottles and misery you cause

With all the beatings, each blow, my soul is torn

 

Weeping, seeping, blackened, wrought with your disease

I’m ashamed to have your name on my family tree

Disgusted by the DNA, that I can’t bleed out of me

You tarnished me, I was happier on the street

The street where you left me cold and all alone

Nobody to love me, no place to call my own

The title “mother” should always provide a home

Instead you beat me, defeat me, and toss me out

Like a cold and heartless stone

 

Your words engraved into my head

There they rest politely waiting to be read

You will never fully get, all the pain you cause

Read my words carefully don’t you dare take a pause

 

You are the E in evil you really make me sick

All the drunken Episodes causing nights of panic

V is for the Violence of which you did inflict

Ferocious hits and nasty bites, rip my soul to bits

 

I is for the Insecurity that you put in me

Depression and anxiety of which I am not free

You should have given me the chance to be

The careless, cheerful, child that I would happily call me

 

L is for the Love you never showed and the Love you stole away

When you told my family with me they cannot stay

You should have given me to them, instead of causing pain,

Given me a home to have, you should have stayed away

 

EVIL is what you are and what you mean to me

I will never call you ‘mother’ because I’d be speaking too highly

You don’t deserve a millionths chance after all you've done

Go drown in the bottle, in your life; it’s your number one

 

Bottle before baby, housing, love or food

That same old bottle that put fury into your every mood

Go and drink till the last drop parts ways on your lips

Just know that you’ll die alone because of all of this.

Author's Note

Thank you to anyone who reads :) Feedback is appreciated.

Reviews

[J. Kell]

This in my opinion was a very brave poem because it was so personal. My father is an alcoholic so I really related to this. It almost made me tear up in several places. Art always tries to evoke that kind of emotional response but it has to be painfully honest like your poem to succeed. Great Job.

[Broken Wings]

I'm sorry you can relate to this Justink. Thank you for your kind words and review. Yes you are right! Art is a great way to release emotion too!

[S. Overstreet]

Wow.... That was so raw. I know being a writer we have to stay within the lines of "proper grammar,' but when a poem comes out this raw, sometimes it's best to leave it that way. The "errors" will remind of that when you hurt, rules of proper English don't play. It makes it real and reachable. Pain has no grammatical rules or ways of proper flow.
Title suggestion: Evil, Thanks for the Poem

[Broken Wings]

Yeah it is raw. I was upset the night I wrote this. It was a good way to let out the overwhelming emotions I have that stuck with me from the not so distant past. Thank you so much, you're right, pain has no grammatical rules. I really appreciate your reviews and taking the time to read. I really relate to your work! Evil, that works. Thanks :)

[S. Overstreet]

You're welcome. The Title I was suggesting is "Evil, Thanks For The Poem." I have a dry sense of humor and my sarcasm is high a lot of the time, but I think it would be befiting since those experiences caused the creation of such an intense but amazing written poem

[Broken Wings]

ohhhh I like that! Thank you! You have a good sense of humor. Aww thank you that means a lot, I really like your writing too. I think you and I relate :)

[S. Overstreet]

Thank you. I appreciate that. : )

[DJ]

Needs a little polishing perhaps on the flow but picky-ness aside a very powerful and heart breaking write. Very dark and emotive. This kind of writing makes me glad I don't have family.

"Weeping, seeping, blackened, wrought with your disease
I’m ashamed to have your name on my family tree
Disgusted by the DNA, that I can’t bleed out of me"

These are my favorite lines. So powerful and filled with emotion. Thank you for sharing your personal pain. Truly a good writer, keep it up.

[Broken Wings]

Thank you :) Yeah polishing will be coming when I have some time. Glad you liked it. Thanks for the encouragement its always nice hearing from you :)