I feel them watching my every move.
They see me through the walls.
I’ll never look again, I swear.
When I go outside they are there.
I’m frightened, scared…
They penetrate my thoughts.
I can’t sleep.
No one believes me.
The forest is black and I see eyes staring back at me.
Is it just paranoia?
Is it inside my head?
Am I crazy?
I see them there across from me.
Those eyes.
Unnerving
Unsettling.
The nightmares are getting worse.
Is this real?
Eyes are still there…
Watching me.
Just waiting…
“I tried my best!” She yelled.”I’m not lying!” She protested.
“Why don’t you believe me?” She asked.
I’ve heard these at least a hundred times and every time you say them I think of all the times I watched you lie to me.
“You don’t love me anymore!” He screamed.
“Stop doing this to us!” He cried.
“Why can’t you stop?” He pleaded.
I’ve heard these words at least a thousand times and every time you say them I think of all the times I watched your heart break.
“I’m sorry.” Is an excuse.
“I won’t do it anymore.” Is a lie.
“Can I have some money?
Can I please have some money?!”
Daddy what happened?
Daddy it’s ok.
Dad are you listening?
Dad it’s okay.
Mommy what’s wrong?
Mommy are you okay?
Mom do you care?
Mom please wake up.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“I think my mom overdosed…again.”
“Daddy I couldn’t help her, what if she’s not okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“I tried my best!” She yelled.
“You don’t love me anymore!” He screamed.
“Daddy what happened?”
“Mommy what’s wrong?”
“I’m not lying!” She protested.
“Stop doing this to us!” He cried.
“Daddy it’s Ok.”
“Mommy are you okay?”
“Why don’t you believe me?” She asked.
“Why can’t you stop?” He pleaded.
“Dad are you listening?”
“Mom do you care?”
“Dad it’s okay.”
“Mom please wake up…”
Let me tell you a secret
A secret I’ve never told
I have wings ‘oh the glory’,
That have been stapled to my back
The Angels, they stare but with pity, not disgust.
For I am a fake who only speaks like an angel.
I was forced to act
Forced to have these wings
Not chosen
Like a child forced to wake up
Everyday to feed themselves
To pick up the broken bottles
That they’re so called mother left on the floor the night before
To reassure their siblings they would get new clothes once they got their paycheck from their part time job
To prepare the food, to pay the bills, to help their mother up off the floor after she passes out for the night, to be forced to grow up at the age of ten because their father left and their mother started drinking
“Let me be your part time angel?”
I would say, but they would just smile and say:
“Don’t let someone staple a pair of wings on you for someone like me.”
So now I don’t care that others look at me with pity,
I am their part time angel for all their life.
Kendra Storm 