Diseased
My Dad thinks my Mom is slowly poisoning him with arsenic
My Mom throws toddler-esque temper tantrums
My younger sister has body image issues and a flat affect
From years of being shat upon by boys disguised as men
My older sister wears a blind fold
To her husband's drinking habits
And habituation to strike down her sons
With clenched teeth spraying out words like...
Freak! and Idiot!
My Grandpa died from liver failure
Drank and smoked himself to death
Because the World War II era didn’t have a name for
Post traumatic stress disorder
Gave it a funny little catch phrase, like shell shock
Could also be just as easily explained as a genetic brain disorder
Because my family is fucked up…my family is diseased
My family follows rules blindly that says be angels in church
But whip out those demon masks at home because we are all sinners
Sin is just an excuse for the reality of it…we are all weak
We are all weak human beings who have the potential for depression
And let’s not forget about the big scary “P” word…
Psychosis
The truth is…my family acts like starving wild dogs at holiday dinners
We foam at the mouth, biting each other for scraps of praise and approval
Scraps of validation, pride, favoritism, and acceptance…
We are beasts wandering through the wilderness of American suburbia
We call this nurturing demand and compliance a cohabitation of love
But the truth is my Dad is a delusional workaholic
My Mom is a bipolar train wreck
My sisters are scabs on wounds that never quite heal up
My brother-in law is a carbon copy of his father
And I…well I’m going out just like my Grandpa did…
Sipping and smoking until my liver explodes.
Copyright Adam A. Gaile 2013
