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Youth

"Poem about a family members habit and the effect it has on the rest of the family"

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Vision of youth (before things go to shit):
me and you, and you're swinging me on your shoulder
as if you'd love me forever...you'd never let me go...slip...break a bone...scar flesh
My mother's brother...my uncle...my role model...drug addict.

We'd play frisbee while Nanny and Poppy cooked in the kitchen with smiles
little did I know all those times you went to the bathroom you were doing more than just "smoking a cigarette"---denial on my part?....or yours?

Flashback: 20 years old with the bathroom door closed
got water, fill up the needle find a vain
it gets harder and harder with each prick
stick
drip drip drip
and floats away your troubles....

oh shit
wrong spot hit
and blood squirts on the sink
guess who walks in
my mom, your sister, sixteen
how's that for a youth-smashing vision:
brother on the toilet
blood on the mirror
mom's reflection lost under the river of ruby

Now it's on to meth...the doctors consolation
shit works so well
I havent gotten a birthday card from you since I was twelve
oh well
I guess I can get over the loss
the loss of somebody who could have made my mom happy

and me

Flashback: Me--16 years old....visiting grandma and dad in hospital...
cancer...god's greatest fucking gift: thanks a lot

Guess who doesn't exist?
guess who's so high and depressed that he can't witness this
Role Model

Sits back with his high and lets his sister and nephews take care of it..
nice bullshit excuse:
'too depressing'
So I guess seeing my mother's mother slowly decay made me and all of us happy
really the highlights of our day
we loved it
we looked forward to it
the highlight of my goddamn 11th grade
six hours of studying and 18 hours of sadness---made me fucking ecstatic

Yet...when I see you once every other month I say hi and I hug you anyway
I get high too
it's in the bloodstream and I'm too weak to fight these things
but Ill be fucked if I turn out like you
a selfish lazy terrible sibling and uncle and son with no intentions
of ever remorsing
and apologizing
no attempt to go through emotions,
a motion
a lift of your arm followed by tears and a hug and an "I'm sorry"

None of that from Uncle

May 18th, 2009: My 21st birthday
Look in the mailbox, no card from you today...
big fucking surprise

I wipe my sleeve on my eyes

say 'fuck you'
and carry on with my fucking day

Published 
Written by Patrick
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