Monday, December 26, 2016

Christmas Morning

Help me, mommy
Be a fucking man she says
My little frame struggles
There's a bike
It's heavy

Help me, mommy
Help me, help you by moving out of the way
My young mind doesn't understand
It's hard

Look, mommy
Mommy's phone is important
My young mind moves on
It's easy

Love you, mommy
Of course you do, I do everything for you
My young heart pauses
It's confused

His young heart loved
His young spirit fell
He followed and hugged
A woman that would break his heart first

She is herself, young
She is harsh and cold
Striking fast, her words filled with venom

Eyes filled with hope and love
He catches and carries her weight
His young life, smothering

He lashes out in frustration
He doesn't understand
What's a man?

Be a fucking man

How you are isn't enough
How you are is weak

Help me, mommy

How you are is destructive
How you are isn't enough

His cry for help will never get answered
His young heart couldn't handle the pain
He traded it for something harder
He became a fucking man
Weak, destructive, never enough

His tears are now fist
His vulnerability is now anger
His love is now fear
His fear is now violent

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