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It'll Be Alright
I wish I wasn’t from the lonely house on top of the hill,
only leading back to broken houses in the shadows, not broken on the outside.
I wish I wasn’t from the yells and screams through walls at night,
hoping the days would soon stop, yet I could never sleep.
I wish I wasn’t from a mother who chose a drink over her family.
I wish I wasn’t from a Band-Aid that can’t cover the wounds of things kids shout at me,
or whisper under their breath, yet I still hear each word they mutter.
I wish I wasn’t from a moving truck,
one house to another, the last foregin now.
I wish I wasn’t from a lady with papers and a clipboard writing down each of my feelings.
I wish I wasn’t from the lonely lunches,
or the lonely days, yet the room packed.
I wish I wasn’t from the emptiness filling my head,
hoping one day my pain will end.
But, I am.
I am from a busy house on the corner,
quiet and quaint, with the echoes of cars driving past in the dead of night.
I am from the leaves in fall,
orange, yellow, and red; each different from others, yet fallen to the ground.
I am from a recovering mother who chooses her family over a drink.
I am from the screams of the wind at night,
knowing they aren’t coming from upstairs, yet I’m still up all night.
I am from my family and friends,
to build me up, no matter how many times I am broken down.
I am from the strength of making it to tomorrow, in a world of pain.
I am from a world of conversation,
no matter how silent it may feel, yet I still feel alone.
I’m from recovery and life,
knowing I’ll be okay one day, life gets tough.
But, it’ll be alright.
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