Home

There is a Homes…

Filled with warmth, love, and laughter,

sweet, new bedroom decorations.

Emotional support, pride, trust,

happy dinner table conversation.

Good night kisses, good morning hugs,

holding on so tight.

Education, cheer practice,

planning of futures with friends all night.

This is the home that has been painted in pictures.

This perfect home was not made for me.

This is the home that every kid wants.

I’ll show you my house now, it’s by that dead tree.

Filled with anger, fear, and shouting,

holes in walls as bedroom decorations.

Emotional abuse, self-loathing, envy,

again, no dinner, family table defamation.

Nighttime physical abuse, embarrassment,

then brother and sister hold each other so tight.

Some education, bullied by cheerleaders,

planning of escaping with brother all night.

Home is not always fireplaces, holidays, endless hugs, and protection.

Help with homework, food to eat, self-esteem and perfection.

Home is also cigarette burns, not having friends, and bruises you need to hide.

No help with homework, having crumbs for dinner, locking your bedroom door at night.

If you’re lucky enough to have escaped the hell that was home, if you’re lucky enough to use writing as affordable therapy, and if you’re very lucky enough to have a brother to protect you, you might just be able to make a home of your own…only fill it with love.