Don't Take Your Childhood For Granted

I hate hearing people talk fondly of their childhoods

Of the way Mommy held them

Or how Daddy kissed them better when they cried

I hate smiling and pretending I understand

When they ask me if I know what they mean

When they say “Remember that?”

Or “Don’t you wish you could go back?”

I want to scream no

no no no no no

NO NO NO NO NO

All a child wants is to be held close by Mommy

Was I not worthy of having that?

No, my childhood wasn’t yours

My childhood was never sunshine and smiles

My childhood was the food Daddy couldn’t afford

But the alcohol Mommy always could

The way small fingers go numb

When nobody bothers to pay the bills

And shying away when friends ask

“Why are you so quiet?”

My childhood is late nights

Filled with broken glass and screaming

Filled with blood and bruises

And hair pulled out of your head

My childhood is wearing dirty clothes

Because Mommy got too drunk to wash them

And Daddy wasn’t home

Again

My childhood is people who should care

People who would protect

People who should love

But don’t

My childhood is hands down my pants

Even as I shook

Even as I said I wanted to stop

Even as I said he was related to me

My childhood is black holes

Gaps in my mind

Where all my memories

Are supposed to be

So ask me again

Ask me one more time

I dare you

Ask me if I remember

Because, no

I don’t remember my childhood

But really

Do I even have one to remember?