Foster Mom

I think this should be pretty self explanatory.

Moving in a daze in a wheelchair,

Hoping at the end of the day someone'll be there.

I know it isn't fair,

And I know that's life.

Foster-mom ruined sleep for me,

And in the morning I feel weak.

Thankin' God I ain't seen her on the street.

I survived her gossip and punches.

Never wanted to eat when I had the chance,

So at school I gave my friends my lunches.

Twelfth grade, 17, with bruised knees,

From crawling on the concrete in front of her house.

She warned me not to tell after she pushed me

Down those steps - I kept quiet.

Because even though I wanted to take my own life,

I was still afraid of dying,

By her hands.

This is my life, I'll be damned if she takes it.

Every time they'd ask me questions,

Could barely form a statement.

I remember laying there, not sheddin' a tear.

Just kept my face on the pavement.

But I swore to myself I'd make it,

Even if I had to fake it.

I threw up from all those pills she fed me without food.

And now I'm high off hydrocodone even though it's for medicinal use.

I never thought I'd be that crazy, 

Never thought it would enter my mind.

I'm not that kind of person, 

But I guess fear makes you blind.

God told me I should forgive her,

And I still remember the address.

Only trouble is I can never go back, 

Cause I'd die from a panic attack.

I tattooed the dates on my chest and my back,

So I can always remember where I came from 

and in the present where I'm at.

Author's Note

Would this be too personal publishing? All critiques are greatly appreciated.