A Hell Called Home

Thinking back to being a child
and growing up in a hell
that i called home
comforted by the yelling
but aggravated at once
I wanted to get out
i wanted to live in homes
like the rest of my friends
i wanted to have sleepovers
and play Barbie's in my room
I wanted to have a real family dinner
and watch TV in the living room with everyone else
i wanted to bake cookies
just mommy and me
i never got to live
the fairytale life everyone else thought
was just normal
when those social workers
took me out of my classroom in fifth grade
and asked me
what my home was like
i got scared
i didn't tell the truth
i didn't want mom in trouble
so i said all was well
maybe if i would have told
what was really going on
things today would be better
i wouldn't have to pretend
that i didn't sleep on the floor
until i was thirteen
that i couldn't go to my bedroom
unless i took a shower first
and my mom supervised
me walking through the kitchen
to the bathroom
so i didn't get anything dirty
sometimes i question
how i am so strong today
when i grew up
in a hell
called home