Young girl

You were one of my favorites

Ironic because you gave everyone the most trouble

Sweet, innocent and filled with all the impurities of the world at the same time

The definition of an oxymoron

You never bothered to stop, you always wanted more on

How to cover up the scars that life has given you

You covered your scars with more scars

With drugs, alcohol and std’s

In class you got D’s and out of class you got the D

All of this for a pain you were intent on suppressing

You let me know you loved me, but it was a slippery slope and you couldn’t stop

You were like my little sister, I love you a lot

I took you to my family’s house

I cooked your favorite ethnic meals and when you came home high

I just sighed

And took you into my arms

I understood

You’re not too young anymore

You left abruptly

You didn’t even know you were leaving

You were there one day and when I came back to do my work

My untiring work on you, you were gone…

Where are you now?

Lost in the world

Almost 18

What will you do then?

You used to cry day in and day out for my family to adopt you

I wanted so badly to take you in

But once again

you were taken away by the system.

Disposable Children


You were born to mothers who threw you in dumpsters

Like Kaihla did Isaiah

Little seeds planted in concrete, trying so hard to find your way up

At night you stay up laid up

Wondering what you ever did to not be good enough

Uprooted from your soil always having your foundation changed just when you begin to plant your roots

No wonder you were never able to grow

Progress comes slow

Because the nurturing you need is not free

At least not when you’re a child of the county

Your parent figures rely on the figures of their paycheck

And society says it’s your own fault that you’re a wreck

Says that you have no sense of respect,

When no one ever showed you what respect looked like

And it should be something that’s wielded unto you all the more

You, children of the night, have gone through more than any of us can imagine

And we just brush you off in a nonchalant fashion

We could learn a few things from you

Like, how to survive

How to hold your own when really you’re dying inside

It’s not fair; that therapy can’t do anything to solve the life you were born into

It’s not fair that you ALWAYS have the rug pulled from under your feet when you begin to


That word alone, when whispered, during your evaluations feels like an uphill battle

Because no matter how hard you try there’s something else,

The staff has recorded

Something else

The administrator wants you to perfect


Something else your social worker forgot to tell you to do

Haven’t all these people in all these positions got a clue?

You are their work but they know nothing of what it’s like to be you

At 5 o’clock they put you behind them

When you really need someone standing behind you when,

Their off-hours are your peak hours of vulnerability

Hello! We’re all humans.

These children will mess up, just like us-

 Have you ever considered that possibility?!

They’re no more perfect than us

But one slip-up and its back to square one

Why do we hold them to such strict standards we don’t even treat our own like that?

No wonder they feel like there’s no battle to be won

We keep telling them that the end is right around the corner

When their journey has only just begun

These poor tortured souls endure all this

And we wonder why they slit their wrists or turn to drugs so young



I can see the 5-year-old version of you

I can see grandpa touching you in places his hands should’ve never wondered

All you wanted was his attention

He gave it to you all right

He changed your whole life

I try to trace back our lineage and find out where everything went all wrong

Was it visions of your mom, trying to commit suicide in the bathroom?

She just couldn’t accept the fact that her husband cheated when it was in her face all along

He knew exactly how to get you

He would neglect you and pay attention to others

Make them feel special

Knowing that you would wonder-

Why he always looked past you

Then you would strive to be under his spot light

To be loved

That’s when he knew he had you-

In his trap

Ask me how I know mom…

Ask me.

He was the next thing closest to “Dad”

-Aside from your infrequent boyfriends

You always knew the wrong thing to do when I confided in you

Blackmail him for money? Really?

You asked me if I wanted it…

I understand, you didn’t want it to be true

You didn’t want me to relive your past

Or make you relive your own

That’s why I forgive you




Mommy Dearest…Modern Day Joan Crawford



My mother is my daughter

I have friends who are willing to do more for me than you

My mom talks about me like I’m her archenemy in high school

Jealousy because I didn’t play into being life’s fool

Gossiping to my sisters trying to get inside their minds

Having you raise me throughout life was like the blind leading the blind

I learned life lessons from the streets

More than anything you ever teach

You see me in disbelief

Like, “I can’t believe this bitch is about to get her degree”

You don’t like the thought of me being free


Me turning 18 and making the decision to be happy

You can no longer suppress me

So you throw stumbling blocks in my way, trying to test me

My sister rushing to take her off speakerphone

She knows what you say about me hurts

Enemies remain in dark corners, but there my mother lurks

Waiting, praying, playing…

Head games

Calling me selfish and greedy

Just because I don’t like to live to my last dollar

You put me through that already

Because I like some sense of security

So I can back myself up when I’m ready

After all, I never had anyone else to

Especially not you

 Complaining because my sister thought it was polite to bring me something back

You go through bottles of my wine, but I bet you don’t recall that

No one asked for your assistance

Yet you complain like it’s solicited

These were reasons why I rarely visited

A horrible past I must now reminisce