For a second I thought there was Hope.

Hope my mother would quit using dope.

It was the night after 7th grade ended.

She said it was a vacation, and I pretended.

All these years she told me she loves me.

But she never stayed long enough for me to believe.

It was the day they came and took me back.

The day I went home and one thing did I lack.

A family.

All I heard was screaming and shrieking.

Everyone’s mouths were leaking.

Cursing and in vein.

They didn’t care about mine or his pain.

My brother and I sit in the basement.

Listening to mother and daughter vent,

I hated what I heard.

My grandma saying all those awful words.

I felt so helpless and gone.

All I knew is that I had to be strong.

So I got up and told him everything would be alright.

And that he’d go home tonight.

He believed me so we played play station.

And I say there with all my patience.

That night our mom left us there.

Like she didn’t even care.

In the middle of the week,

She came just to take a peak.

Took my little brother away.

And left me there to stay.

I hate her for everything she’s done.