her broken pieces
it was the maybes that made her think that maybe
she could become something more than a no good nothing;
a disappointment to her father and the daughter that her mother
wished was a son.
she tuned out the yelling with her music turned
all the way up as high as it could, letting the pounding bass
in her ears drown out the pounding footsteps as her father
left her mother alone crying in the kitchen, slamming the door
behind him as he left.
as she slipped downstairs with her headphones still blaring
music into her ears so that she could pretend that she was
unaware of her mother crying into her coffee,
curled up in the farthest corner of the couch trying to disappear
into the beige colored cushions.
breakfast was the tears she swallowed because she
refused to let them go, she didn't want to seem
anything but strong to her mother who dearly wanted a son
but got a daughter instead, she wanted to seem
less like a daughter and more like a son because she
secretly hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would be able
to get just a little bit of the love that her mother was wasting
on her father;
a man who could care less about his wife and child
because all he wanted was to appear to the world as a
loving father and dedicated husband when he was anything but.
her music stayed on, stayed blaring into her ears as she left
the house that was slowly suffocating her and walked to the school
that was suffocating her even more.
it was the same as every morning before and she felt lost
in her home home with her own family, she felt like everything
was her fault just because she had been born, just because
she was alive.