Nurture

Alcohol love.

One Tennants Super I'm a C**t.
Two Tennants Supers and I'm a stupid little C**t.
Three Tennants Supers and I'm a stupid little C**t, who doesn't know anything.
So which is it?
I've continued to wonder.
I know that you hit my sisters more often than you hit me,
Using an Ancestral Piece of Cane to bruise and phyisically abuse,
to have your silly rules listened to and confuse us as to what love is.
'Blood is Thicker than water' you decree,
but blood is only as thick as you make it.
Conjealed blood is definitely thicker than water.

Why don't you hit me as much?
My oldest sister gets the most, she always boasts about being daddies little girl.
You hit the next youngest when the mood suits.
Me, however, you hit rarely and it barely leaves a mark,
most of my abuse comes from the violence you inflict on my sisters,
Both in my mind and as a convenient punching bag,
for thier stresses and anxieties.
But you didn't have to take the oldest to karate,
I can hardly handle the the life in to which I as born,
let alone fancy moves and kicks that I can't compete with.

You don't hide your women from me.
I'm seven years old and you hold hands with other women and smile at me like it's ok
You seem shameless, and it's the only times your nice to me.
Stuck in a cycle of family life that you despise,
f*****g whatever woman that will accept the ride,
and devising complicated lies for the following times.
what mother doesn't know won't make her cry.

Using me to travel far.
Leaving me and my sister in a theme park,
whilst you fucked my friends mum up the road,
the whole time I know, that I'm a tool for your ability to cheat.
An unfaithul conduit, I may as well strap you in myself.

Do you remember punching me in the stomach when I was 10?
I must have been so small as tall was never my thing.
I was smiling and had just found out a secret.
Such a good feeling to be winded to.
A fully grown man punches a happy young boy in the stomach...
I can't imagine what that's like?
Does it feel good?
Does anything you do feel good?

I remember another time looking through shopping bags,
you literally kicked my arse so hard I bled.
No reason given, instead you gave a laugh as I fled,
and it's not just for rhyming sake when I say I wished you dead.
Over and over, a headful of rage,
screaming into clothes to dampen the sounds I made,
and staring into space, full of hate,
wanting to kill you, over and over planning your death.
Wishing that memory of you could be erased from my aching brain.
Wanting to die...

What about the time we spent in the garden?
You know the time you beat me with the patio chair,
On the floor covering my face as you ranted into thin air.
I was not really there.
My body and mind were,
but my care was abandoned a lifetime before.
My life time.
Still there were good times too,
Like when you wouldn't stop the car until I pissed myself.
Ha-ha how we laughed, me degraded like that, cheers pa.
you always go too far, and it was appreciated.

Still I was the lucky one, The girls got it all the time, why was that though?
I forgot that I was asking and got distracted,
by violent memories and pity for you.

Yes let us talk about the oldest, and often loudest,
with a temper like yours.
I was not more than four when I seen you beat her to the floor,
striking her repeatedly until mum finally screamed no more,
before you stopped.

She broke anything she could and you would beat her,
She shouted loudly, you would beat her,
She loved you deeply and you would still beat her.

Remember how you purposely burnt her on Christmas Day.
How she ran away, stayed in the salvation army,
and still she loved you.

Eventually the mighty fall. You were not different at all.
You still managed to headbutt me once more, for old times sake.
We all grew older and wiser than you, though it took a lot of going through,
and my mind has never been right.
The only truth from you that I need bring,
from the experiences external and within.

Is that...

...I don't need to drink 3 tennant supers to know your a stupid little c**t who doesn't know anything.

Reviews

[Jessica Lynn Polley]

This is intense. I like this poem not despite the fact that it is brutal but because it is. You can not touch heavy subject matter with a light hand, you have to grab hold and tear it open so that everyone can see and that it what you have done here. This man sounds like a coward of the highest order taking his wrath out mainly on his daughters because he knew one day you would be bigger than him and he thought he was protecting himself. I am glad that you are able to express yourself and do not have to keep this all inside because it tastes like poison...This is a great poem for very unconventional reasons and I just want to thank you for sharing something so dark because it shows that you are strong and that he did not break you.