At five I thought I had the best toy box ever, it didn’t have a lid, or painted motifs
Mine had handles and a zip. I remember taking it on overnight trips when we stayed with my mother’s family
At six I thought all daddies could be Jekyll and Hyde
and needed to drink in order to survive
At seven I thought people kept ornaments’ in houses to throw
I look at objects of the past now and think why would you throw something
so beautiful with all the intensions of hate
At eight I realised there was a fine between love and hate
kisses meant love and slaps, kicks punches equalled hate
At nine and ten I remember how much I despised you but
how I craved your love
Then came my teens, well I never gave a thought of you
I was going through enough shit, thanks to you
At twenty I pitied you, your need for solace from the bottle
I could see in your eyes how much you wanted to rid yourself of your demons
At twenty one I admired you, your demons gone, you’d asked for help
you became the man my mother knew was always there.
That’s why she never gave up on you
At twenty two until I was twenty three I came to forgive you because you couldn’t forgive yourself.
Then came twenty four until
you died we finally achieved the relationship we should have always had
Then in my thirties you were gone
and now here I am in my forties and I miss more than ever before
©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.
