He donated his sperm to my existence. He married my mother. He provided shelter and food. He was never my dad. He paid for most of my college education. He beat me and my mother. He beat his own mother. He was never my dad. He...
DRAMA Raised in a drama-filled home, I inherit the taste for drama...My drama would present itself as a victim; All I would need is a participant that would love to travel the same road…And we would make a right turn on the street called Victim.On...
A short poem about not belonging and wondering if I was adopted as a child. It's also about my new adopted recovery family. ADOPTED Twelve or thirteen years old: Nobody hears me. I don’t belong in my family. I wonder if I was adopted. I don’t fit...
Meet me when I wake up before my prayers so that I can have a smoke...Meet me at the coffee pot so that I can feel the coffee and tons of sugar glide down my throat...Meet me after breakfast while I put on my house and coat...Meet me at lunchtime instead of eating I...
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