Why even dare to speak if my words seem to be utterly useless? They don’t feel my pain. It seems that I am just a young man who isn’t valued considered to be nothing. Well as they have toyed and played with my feelings no longer shall I resist the urge of relentlessly expressing myself. Why not return these feelings of self-hate, manic depression, and unworthiness? Truly, not much to hold onto not even a string grasping onto the ledge. Not a young man at all just a body bag with deep wounds and scars. Soul feeling tarnished and scarred. No longer scared nor affected by the world no need to be accepted I have myself in this world. No attachment to anyone due to me always being alone. Fending for myself in a broken home or at least me and my sister in an unstable home. With my little sister, yet I feel alone only a child still unable to walk on her own. She needs constant attention and our parents give her none. Two parents in our home yet it still isn’t a pleasant one. My at home life is even worse than my social life. Continuously an outcast due to my at home life. Just because my mom was never my dad’s wife. And my mom couldn’t take care of home because I handled it better when I was home alone. Clothes all ways dirty because dad never kept a job and never wanted one. Taking care of my sister as if she were my own because mom was to stay-at-home, yet she was almost never home. Dad constantly in between jobs not long enough to choose a profession. So much dirt in need of a long-winded confession. To service as a cure for his aggression. Instead of taking it out on mom leaving her with a black eye with the might of his palm. A horrifying sight yet too young to fight. Protective and always worried about my sister so I shield, comfort, and relieve her from the pain so when of age she can manage and use her brain. The insanity around her I can’t let her see so that definition of love isn’t tainted by the things I see and she would if I weren’t around to shift the madness into just an unpleasant sound. She cries because she’s terrified and disturbed by the horrifying sound of our mother being beaten down or at least to her knees anyway. No mother of mine would silence her cries and deprive her children love for a man leaving them high and dry every day to drink her pain and life away. Leaving behind her sense of reality and her children. Although, she has only brought me much pain I feel remorseful. Not love, yet mercy. Feeling truly sorry for her. Dad is even worse he plunges in his pile of cigarettes and beer cans. Yet instead he is home if he isn’t working his jobs. He’s very bothersome. Non-stop complaints, outrageous yelling, and scaring my little sister. Not much to say it’s not as if he were some rare specimen and I had to do a case study. Just a man who has taken my childhood due to his negligence, and taken away my little sister’s mother could say father if he ever acted like one.