Why do they call it a lie;
because it's short for a line.
I used to say I was happy all of the time;
just another lie - fucking bullshit line.

My dad was married to this bitch for six months
who had some kids that turned out to be some sick fucks.
My step brother Eddie wanted to chop the heads off kittens.
He'd tell me to fetch him some victims.
So I'd chase the cats away and say I couldn't catch them,
then he'd punch me in the gut and tell me not to tell anyone.
If I did, I'd be his next victim.
So I did, and I never turned my back to him.

Then there was my sister Tabitha who tried to get me to fuck her.
I was a little kid who barely knew where his dick was,
I had plenty of reasons to never touch her.
She'd try to convince me to shove it in her pussy,
I'd tell her, "That's nasty," so she'd show her ass to me.
I never did it, so when I didn't, she'd get it from Eddie.

My older sister would read stories to me
where I could get away and escape into fantasy.
She was the saving grace between step bitch belting me.

Fucking step bitch was a menace to society;
a blemish in my father's history
that affected my brother, him and me,
that took a part of me
opened it up and shoved a darkness in -
inevitably I am to be at least a portion as fucked up as
that fucking mental family.
You see the symmetry? DO I SEEM ANGRY!?

Well I'm not. I'm suppressing memories.

Suppressing everything, oppressing authority
wrestling internal enemies and contemplating
a suicidal ending.

Speaking plainly - it's fucking depressing.

But try telling someone you're depressed and see how they react.
They look at you like you're whack,
like you did something so despicable and abstract
that you shouldn't talk about it
or attempt contact
with the Human race.

Just get out of their face

and let them get back to their happy little world
while your blood boils and your soul deteriorates.

03/14/2014

Posted on 03/14/2014
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt