7.8 billion 1 world and still feel alone..we dont care cause were in our own world.. We chose that were more important than others. We think we deserve better but if so who gets the shit end, who deserves the bad.. #ranting #wordpress #alone #blogs #writing

As long as I can remember and retain information my parents we’re in their own world.. I remember going to motels and being kicked out cause they argued all the time.. My mom likes to act like it was all “my dad ” but it takes two to tango and knowing my mom now, I can honestly say she wasn’t the victim and ” my dad” and her we’re one big monster when they were together. When I was in second grade I remember my teacher sending me home because “my mom” left a bruise on my leg.. That what was “my mom’s” thing when she was trying to get us to listen. When we went out to any public place we would sit down and shut up.. People thought it was good because kids run around all the time and we didn’t. But little did they know my dad would beat us if we didn’t do what he said. So when we went out public we know how to act. I remember when my use to wear her hair a certain way but when her and “my dad” divorced she stop doing that and dressed like she was 17 again.. Sometimes when “my mom” would leave “my dad” but it only took a day to come back. I remember when I was younger, my dad and mom were arguing and she happen to be opening a can. We were dirt poor so she was using a knife and ended up cutting herself. Like most times, he didn’t want to take her to the hospital.. That was my dad for ya. I wish my parents actually taught us something but instead we’ve had to learn as we go.. My mom refuses to grow up and remember that she’s always going to a mother.. But then again she didn’t want to be a mother in the first place anyway… I’m scared to put out what it really was because I have not even admitted to myself what it was like. And my brothers and sisters act like it didn’t happen, it’s all in my head but I know it wasn’t.. Cause it scared my mind with memories, I question every day that nobody wants to talk about or express. What if you need your past to go forward? Idk what I’m saying.. Forget it.

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.. It’s tough not having a mother… When I was 11 I went to live with my dad. Me and my younger sister felt like my mom was paying more attention to my older sister and her boyfriend. So we felt maybe we’ll just go live our dad, maybe he’ll be nice to us. He was at first nice but then after awhile I saw the same father I remember seeing when I was younger. When he would get mad he grinded his teeth give us the stare and knock you on your head several times… He had a way of making us fear him and was beating us with belts, hangers, sticks and this 2 by 4 stick… I wasn’t a good teenager by far but mainly for in trouble to get away from my dad… But when I was a teenager, I brought something I wasn’t suppose to, to school and gave it to a friend and that friend got caught and this friend ended up telling on me. Saying I gave it to her… When the principal called my dad to tell him what happened. My dad picked me up from school and drove home. When we got there, he took the 2 by 4 stick he had and told me to put out my hands and I did… He then started to hit my both hands til he got tired as he would say. Both my hands bruised up from him hitting them… After I got in trouble for it life at home wasn’t so great. It never had been but he started checking my backpack for any drugs. He said he wanted to make sure I wasn’t popping pills… Back then I didn’t know what that even meant but I was like wtf is popping pills, and how do you pop pills lol. Sometimes he treated me like his slave or something.. Were I came from its hot very hot so windows are open and flies are coming in, so what does my dad do?.. Since I was in trouble if something needed to get done he’d tell me to.. He calls me over to his room and says “there’s flies in here, kill em” so I’m chasing around these stupid flies like an idiot while he sat on the bed watching tv.. F**kin assh*le! That was my dad, miserable… “Some” say he’s “changed” but you can’t undo the damage it caused…

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Many words not enough lines.. A picture is not worth a million words it’s a million stories. A lens only captures what you want it to. But if your only capturing the good things, where do the bad ones that show another side go?.. In the trash (delete).. #justranting #LIFE #world #WRITING #Twitter #poems #instagram #WordPress 

…sitting on tears because I feel we don’t have any connection between us. Idk what to do or think… Is it ok to have friends your partner never tells you about?.. Is ok to hold back things you normally would tell me? .. If your best friend is someone else does that mean that I’m not a person you choose to trust?… I gave my life away for you and you don’t even care. You say you don’t have no friends to talk to, but yet your contacts are full of people Idk and you say their friends but you never talk about these “friends” in your contacts… If your suppose to build your relationship on trust, the foundation is crumbling and I think we floating on our own piece..  Hopefully you’ll look up long enough to see me on another island..before It’s not to late, but how long is too late?..who knows..just another story by a nobody author…… Time will tell what the future holds..When you start a new relationship, it’s a blank slate so be honest and if they don’t like it then glad you didn’t waste any of your time trying to be with someone that’s already starting off fake.. Take your time, no need to rush.. #relationships #LIFE #trust #world 

This is raw material. If it doesn’t make sense, when does writing ever make sense.. It makes for something the writer only knows about.

• Sometimes people have this idea about what a child might go on to do but not all cases are like that

Recently I started trying to put my family tree together, when I was younger I remember things…. My family isn’t normal

• Am I krazy or…

• You’ll hear about how the other side of the tracks live.

Life as a child in the 90s.  #zerotohero #instagram #world #LIFE #WRITING #Twitter #not normal #poetry #WordPress