A Broken Home is Only Broke When You’re in it

Love in my family
Was selective
To the point where
You love someone with passion
Or hate them with envy
And I didn’t mind the Christmases 
On my dads side
Even though I didn’t recognize any of them
As someone to hold onto
Someone to cherish
Someone to love
But growing up in a broken home
Left marks and scars
Where I didn’t recognize the closest people to me anymore
Until close became
Living with someone 
And not loving them
And hate became
The person living behind the broken door
With shattered glass on the floor
Who I wish I didn’t recognize anymore
Like my dads side at Christmas 
And although I got what I wanted
Each year, every toy and technology
I didn’t get my most wanted
My most needed
My most desperate wish of all
Looking into the broken house
And not seeing him at all
Or recognizing him
As someone I’m not required to love anymore
Or knowing him
As someone to pass by on the street 
And feel content in never seeing them again
And although the broken house is weak
I tell myself constantly
That although the shattered glass on the floor
Is broke with ambition 
And forced that way with tears
That there is now a real view of the outside world
A chance to leave this life behind 
Where I may get my wishes blessed
And content knowing the time may come now
Or ten years later
But for now
I’ll lay on my broken bed
Wishing one day
I’ll come out of that broken door
Knowing I may never need to know him again
As someone to hold onto
Someone to cherish
And someone to love

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