The Weight of Normal

I thought the shouting filled each night, A common song, a parent's right. The switch's sting, a bitter kiss, Normal, I thought. She said I missed The mark, the line, the perfect way, And earned the pain that marked the day.

Dinner on the floor, a shadowed plate, I thought all families sealed this fate. To bed unfed, a hollow ache, My mother's words, they often break. Normal, I thought, to lie awake, And feel my small world start to shake.

It's normal to be blamed for all, The house, the moods, the rise and fall. For my despair, a guilty plea, For my mother's cruelty, I thought it was I that make The world is against me, a therapy refused. When I asked for help, I felt used.

"I can't stop you," she coldly sighed, As tears streamed from my eye. That night the razor, a chilling gleam, A desperate, silent, fractured dream. I thought it fine, to cut and wait for life to take its course. I grew up in the darkness.

Lice in my hair, a crawling shame, The bare minimum, a cruel game. Evil step-parents, a constant war, A waste of life, forevermore. Normal, I thought, to hear those words, Like poisoned darts, like cruelest birds.

Handprints on my neck, a hidden bruise, Another secret I can refuse. At school, the stares, the whispers low, The truth I hide, the seeds I sow. Normal, I thought, to live in fear, And carry burdens, year by year.

But now I see, with clearer eyes, The truth behind those practiced lies. What I endured, a twisted plight, And stole away my inner light. Normal, I thought, but now I grieve, For the stolen life I can't believe.