Ah. The fucking Aha moment. At 2am tho?

LGBTQ

I figured it out…

PTSD…i always associated with not me. The end.
Nah. At this hour, i realized it stems from childhood. pertaining to loud noises waking me out of my sleep and why I used to be pissed all the way off whenever I was woken up by loud noises…as an adult.

Hmmm. Interesting that I recall this now and I’ve been trying to get to the root of it ever since it was brought to my attention…

Ok.
As a youngin. My mom was being super mom holding down our family and I grew up spending a lot of time at my Grammys house. Well, my grandmother (like most) was awesome and so kind. She adopted my cousin at a very young age from his mother, and her very own daughter because she didn’t want him….yeah.

Well, he was literally the coolest and one of my favourite cousins who always looked out for me and made sure I was keeping up with Yo! MTV Raps, recorded videos for me and shows I would miss while I was in school. #thebestest

And this cool cat,
As far back
And
as long as I can remember was hooked on crack.
Like…steal from the woman who clothes, feeds, takes care of you, get violent and forceful when she would try and put her foot down and say no (but would eventually give in because the neighbors don’t need to know ALL of the family’s dirty laundry he willingly volunteered at the top of his lungs at the most Ungodliest hours) …

& when cuzzo started feigning it was like…
watching a man. turn into an animal…
and…the really bad instances when he’s stolen and begged from neighbors, had his fix and when that ran out…satan. red eyes and all. Everything that i was taught about the devil…
I saw it. In his eyes
didn’t know him. I didn’t trust what that white made him do or say because who are you? when I’m looking up but you’re falling down
Slurred speech
And this usually happened between 2 and 3.
Sound asleep.
Then.
Banging on the windows. Yelling
and Cursing.
Demanding and
threatening…
Banging.
Crashing.
My grandmother holding her already weakened heart and crying as she walks over to where she secretly keeps her “lil change”
to give to the Boy
who never stops taking even until her last breath
And…ok,I’m done…sigh. that’s why.

Leave a Comment/Reply because You Can!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s