Not About Me

There’s a line on this site that claims I was “raised” by my parents, Larry and Edele, alongside my sister, Shayna.
As if that word ever applied to me.

Raised.

I wasn’t raised. I was left to rot on the floor. I was prodded with hot iron that I hid from. 
And to further clarify, I was never “alongside” my sister, Shayna. I was a target she could reach. She pointed, aimed and laughed.

Raised… No.

There was only harm. Quiet enough to slip through cracks and loud enough to split me open.
My survival, through instinct. A raw and animal need to outlive what was happening to me.

And let me be clear. Perfectly fucking clear. I am here in defiance.
Every breath I take, a contradiction of intentions.

I’ll keep it there though. The part about ‘being raised’

Because ‘About Me’ sections are for neat boxes and polite lies.
Because that little bio blurb isn’t where you spill blood. It’s where you provide the basics. The ones that never mattered in the first place.