Learning

We’ve all learned to make it work.

I helped Keith and he helped me.

He lost more,

but he seems okay.

He’s been living with me,

so he can get back to a normal life,

after everything.

I still get bothered by his screams at night.   

I understand I think.

I didn’t before.

But we’ve lost the same things and he knows

what it feels like, now,

to be disgusted by something,

bothered,

having a tick.

He doesn’t talk to his father either.

I can see why he may

hate him.

The man who forced him into who he is now.

Who cries at night,

and can’t leave the house,

not being able to watch movies from his youth.

But we’re okay.

I’ve gotten better,

I don’t rehang his clothes in his closet.

I’ve transfered to an adult therapist too.

Who I was afraid of at first,

because the day of the week changed.

And it hurt at first

and it hurt my lungs.

It hurt my legs,

but after a while,

it didn’t.