I remember living in a basement
cement floor, cotton candy pink insulation
hanging from the ceiling
smell of mildew, no telling what they will do,
always anxious

there’s no telling what they will do

rusty steel support beams,
scattered throughout the space,
musk in the morning
dim lit and dark most days

mattress on the floor,
dusty out of tune piano as a headboard
dragon ball Z and spiderman posters
concrete walls
echos of hollering family feuds fluently
ear piercing screeches,
older people teaching
memorizing the words they used usually

with no telling what they will do

vulgar language of "fuck you's, you stupid cunt, I hate you, go fucking die!"
filled the atmosphere of a 9 year old boy's ears and eyes.
listening to the elders,
fearing somebody getting hurt,
and disappearing, looking for safe shelter,

take me away from this place

bullet through the glass running around,
cartwheels through the grass, laughing out loud
with the family of kids I lived with,

they all had the same fear. trying not to get hit.
they were exposed to the same performance.
the chemicals that turn our parents into foreign
strangers,loud laughter, singing and dancing like fools,
into stumbling, mumbling,lashing out aggressively, rude

cutting throats with their words
cutting coke with credit cards
we watch cartoons and cuddle dogs
try to find something soft when the liqueurs hard


when I was 11, living with another family, in another home, in a different town
mom found out she was unexpectedly pregnant
stressed to bone,
we were surrounded by violence
making a loving home

liars, drunk drivers, work with what you have macgyvers, my role models were stoned, I always felt alone
I remember a wicker basket over filled with half empty pill bottles
crushed up on the coffee table
I never slept safely

the smell of cigarettes burn like incense, the scent of escaping
his face turns red, veins poking out his neck,
screams filled me up with fear

sleeplessness, and aware
of the psychosis
alcohol induced trauma,
painkillers, methamphetamines
not prescribed by his doctor

my diagnosis was
this person is choking, this person is dying,
he’s hurting everyone he knows,
I can only tell him in my writing,
I'm too scared to speak up,
I'm too weak to be tough
that’s why I’m still hiding
I hate this person out of love
I'm seeing what monsters become
and where they come from
and why these drugs are inviting

what does this mean?

asking my 11 year old self, what does this mean?
why are these people so fucking crazy?
what is it they need?
what happened to them when they were babies?

As a child
finding tranquil peace only when I day dream
As a child
cutting throats with their words
cutting coke with credit cards
we watch cartoons and cuddle dogs
Try to find something soft when the liqueurs hard
As a child as a child as a child