Pearl Harbor

Here is a self-serving, dramatic poem thing I wrote. Hey, we all deal with things in our own way!

When I was younger, I used to think things were going to be okay. My head used to hurt. But me, I thought everything was going to be okay. My mom, she started to take drugs to make it all go away. My dad, he started to drink more and hope it would go away. My mom, she started to dream things she never saw. My dad, his chest started to hurt. When I was young, I thought everything was going to be okay. My mom, she started to cry alone in the bathroom. My dad, he started to put his head in his hands. Me, I started to take a dozen pills at a time. When I was young, I thought everything was going to be okay. My mom, she started to burst blood vessels. My dad, he started coughing up blood. Me, I started cutting holes in my arms. My sister, she tried to ignore it all. When I was young I told everyone we were all great. My mom, she started to feel things she shouldn't. My dad, he never saw a doctor. Me, my face started to burn, My sister, she had to hold her past so tight. My brother, his fists started to clinch. When I was young, I looked the other way. My mom, her eyes were so red. My dad, he fell apart so fast. Me, I wished he could see me. My sister, she stood on such a pillar. My brother, he only told his wife. When I was young, I lost my father. My mom, she was so embarrassed to feel how she did. My dad, he's somewhere else. Me, I'm so goddamn numb. My sister, she works it away. My brother, he doesn't believe it. None of us believe it. Us, we're all asleep. Us, we're all dead. It's just a matter of time. But please, please don't give up before it's over.