Broken:
You caused me pain,
Without caring how I would react.
Yelling, screaming.
Paralyzing me in the depths of darkness
Inside my brain.
Penetrating my thoughts,
Constantly thinking how to
Get you help,
Not ever realizing what I was doing to myself.

You criticized me,
Calling me names.
Probably hoping that you would lower my confidence.
Instead the love of child and parents switches,
In which I was the parent,
Taking care of things;
Praying to god that I would not
Find my mother and father dead in the early morn.
The alcohol consuming you into another parallel,
Dimension, continuous.

Every night,
Causing fright.
Too mature at such a young age;
Words cannot explain
What I have felt, undergone through the past fourteen years.
Instead you insist for me to forget the past.
To get over the fact that the two most important people in my life
Were too self-indulged with themselves
To even notice what was happening-
I was losing myself-And yet
You still say that I was the bad daughter, of turning her parents in,
Till then what again? Was a young girl at the age of fifteen supposed to do?
What do you expect?
I was brave,
I saved your lives.
Going to a mental hospital,
Still too embarrassed to call me your daughter?
Will you take those memories to the grave?
I think not
That you will ever thank me, in this lifetime.
For you are too ignorant,
You hold yourselves high,
On a steep pedestal,
That which I cannot reach-and never will.

I move on not forgetting what I have learned.
I still love you,
For you are my family, the only one I hold.
So back to the cold world
Which is reality.
Until the day I realized how much I have accomplished.
Oh wait, I already have.
Nothing’s changed, everything’s the same.
Clanking beer cans, covering the kitchen floor.
Stench of stale alcohol amidst the living room;
Broken pots and glass.
CD Players thrown off the deck;
Switching rooms-having my father stay in my bed.
Police Officers coming to the door,
After accidental calls for help.
“911, What is your emergency?”
My parents are drunks-
Not anymore.
Yet those vivid times
Are still in my mind, that the more I think of them.
The more surreal, and realistic they get.
So help me god, please let me stay strong.
For I have a long way to go;
And these memories of my pastime are growing worse,
More powerful to the extent
In which my sanity has finally broken.