Decaying dysfunctional family

Frustration, fighting and mentally ill people

We pretend that everything is so normal

Slowly she is making a mess of my boy

Giving to him the doubtful gift of ambivalence

And depleted will

There is always a reason for this and that

It is just that reason does not change the world


Trees change the world


I am who I was when I wrote this text but I do not know if I exist now. I am from Scandinavia where the arctic starts

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Posted in Ambivalence, Family, frustration, Growing up, Pain, patterns, Poem, Poems, Poetry

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