eight

"He doesnt know it, but in a year from now our family will be torn apart." I'm tired of waiting for this bomb to explode, like I've lived on the edge of death for all my life. My mother has waited for me to sing her to sleep, and I've waited for her to recognize my face in a crowd. I've waited for my life to begin, but somewhere along the way I guess that means it ended. Maybe it was middle school, teasing my hair and covering my arms with kandi bracelets that I didn't even make. Maybe it was second grade, when my parents first threatened to divorce and move away forever. 

Nothing they ever promised has come true. Nothing has ever exploded, just fizzled out. I think I fizzled out along with my parent's love for eachother. I think sometimes I'm lost, but I'm too tired to remember how I got lost in the first place. I'm too tired. Too afraid. 

I want to go home.