abreagieren

/ mbrazfieldm

my mother and my father would fight about the air around them or about Jimmy Carter and about their marital problems tired old words leadless bullets that i took for them a meek child called to be King Solomon at 4 the trees and blocks and baby dolls were not enough to free me from the painful heavy feeling in my post toddler soul an orphan in the house of everything meaningless clean sanitary and paid for but not love i had 30 pieces of silver 7 times more and i kissed no one and no one kissed me when i bruised my knees or when the Armenian kids beat me up after school or when i cut the rope and wandered off into the womb of my city the yellow brick road didn’t exist but there were miles and miles of pavement where gentle hands and toothless grins had my best interest at times and at times i grew up the hard way but between stolen 4th of July Fireworks shows OD visits to the ER home cooked waffles at Astrid’s house boys with rainbows in their eyes and a few good angels i learned how to love

15 thoughts on “abreagieren”

  1. I turned my back when I couldn’t handle the verbal abuse between my parents that no child should have to listen to over and over again. Whether this story is true or not its is true for a lot of children. I just wanted to say your words resonated with me.So, Great write! ❤🌼

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  4. My parents had a rule that they wouldn’t go to bed angry with each other so they would fight until the wee hours of the morning keeping me up at night… Not fun.
    But thankfully the lesson learned was to not be like them and have a happy marriage of my own.

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