Three Poems plus a bonus.

Still shatters the house of glass

The cowardly route

I write instead of
Confronting speaking,
Partially, cause I
know how it is to
Mourne a parent,
While they are living

See I took drugs, not
to suppress the pain,
But to feel something,
to slowly die cause
I never had the guts
to hang myself,
NOW FOR THE LAST
TIME I DONT DO DRUGS
AND I HATE BEING ASKED, ACCUSED AND
EXPOSED, FAILED TO
PROTECT ME, EXPOSED
ME TO WHOMEVER CARED TO LISTEN THAT
I SMOKE DRUGS.

I finally overcame
the pain yet here,
I am again, your
love was a beacon,
Of hope a glimmer
and a testament,
of light in the
darkness, real
love, it took
Me nine years
to accept you as
my mother,
the realisation
Came on your
Wedding day,
With my father
I
had a fleeting
thought the flicker
Of light very dark
and I prayed lord,
let nothing happen,
to my mother, I
finally felt a mother's
love for real
ever since, there's
never been a doubt,
you will forever be.

Remember the
first time, I called
you mother it was
punched, belted
Beat up in me, fathers
told me it is why, you
couldn't accept his
marriage proposal
but it's all good,
I hold no grudges.

As for your love,
it bloomed a spring,
Under a blanket
of snow breaking the
monotonous white,
with spectrums of,
glistening greens,
tones of
mellow yellows,
sunset in the orange,
blues and bees.

Now publicly, you
have fallen apart,
not protecting
each other, if I
was to do something
so public it would
warrant a meeting,
but y'all are the adults,
I can't say I never saw
the signs before
the acts, I recall
mother used to speak.

Have you stopped
to think what my
younger brother
is going through?
Watching his whole
world cascading before
his eyes, his mentality
as a young man, torn
childhood, broken family
the pain that's to befall
him in his limited understanding, I
can't begin to imagine,
He has not spoken to
me about this,
remember, he has
a sense of protection,
an acute one...

I don't think
I can watch him
go through the
motions, I don't
think I can stick
around I'm cowardly
Like that, if you
reading this I'm
probably gone,
gone like the
days my father
and mother
last shared a
Bed.

Shattered glass,
breaks into a million
Pieces and it cuts
Deep if not removed,
It travels into the body,
Causing internal bleeding. A reality
of a broken family.

-Black Note.