I left her place wondering how I would die.
When I would die,
if I hadn’t already.
The happiness that filled my soul after a life through a hell hole
drained down the local streets that was once my home.
Why I had to give a damn about these pets of mine.
They stopped the only decision that could rid me of this ripping pain inside,
that bitch caused as she tore my soul from my heart.
She stole my past.
She decided what I could have of my mother and brother.
She threw out my childhood like a Viet Nam token.
She cherished her success of wrecking my life.
She seems to forget who she gives the title of wife.
She stole the once happiest memories,
those that have ceased to last.
I have only the memories in my head,
all of which she tainted with hate.
I think of the letter I would leave behind
The truth that cuts the lies of a woman who pretends she is the divine?
A thank you letter for destroying the last living remnant of her family ties?
Or how about that “are you happy” letter?
You know, the one that says, "oh your life is so much better…,
now that I’m dead"?
You wanted nothing more
than to rid the world of the lineage for which you were born.
It’s always been her dream
to bring pain to those nearest.
That is the life of ol’ Auntie Dearest
JOAN
Copyright - Michelle April, 2003