I am from a Masquarde

I am from a prison masquerading as a home
From no freedom and unspeakable abuse.
I am from Robert, my dad and Kathy, my mom
From walls that heard what outsiders weren't allowed.

I am from a family masquerading as Christians
From hypocrisy at it's finest.
I am from church every time the doors were open
From fake smiles to hide the fights on the way in.

I am from hour long lectures and sometimes just as long beatings
From near death at the hands of my father.
I am from "you're worthless, you can't do anything right"
From a loss of childhood.

I am from a grandmother who was the only one to stand up for me
From her early death, the loss of my hero.
I am from the death of my soul
From what could have, should have been the death of me.

I am from all of these things
But I am not dead.
I am alive, strong, and independent.
I am to my children what I never had
I am the end of a cycle, a survivor.


This is my first English assignment. I know it's taboo to speak of such things in public, but I thought it turned out really well. And it is what it is. This is my past, it can't be changed, and I am the person I am today because of it.