See you hold me as your baby boy. You sing your song to me making me feel as though there us nothing that my ignorant mind will ever have to worry about. I'm here remembering how you brought me my first bike. Complete with helmet and pads so........... I get on. And I begin to ride. I'm riding towards the dreams of my first day of first grade. I riding towards learning how to pack my own lunch. I'm riding towards the days of playing with my sister and brother. I'm riding towards my 'moving on celebration, in eighth grade. Now, still in this ride I'm older and I'm questioning why you have treated me this way. Over the last couple of years your words have scarred and your vocabulary has broken down all of the walls of love in my heart. Its as if you drove the bulldozer yourself  and while on your path of destruction I have metaphorical been knocked down. And all of those things that I previously rode towards have been deleted from my memory. I long wondered why you are the hen whos comments' are pecking at my very vulnerable skin? Am I a burden? I often feel as though I am. Am I the target for your revenge as you avenge the figurative death of your late lover. I'm sorry that slapped down any confidence that you had ever found. And because of this you will always come back around , being beat down to the ground when you know it sounds like his unmerciful strikes will never stop! I'm sorry that everyday you have to look at the product of a horrible man. No this wasn't rape but it was abuse. An abuse that took place before and after I was born! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. So now I realize what a tole this has taken on me. All of this has to been the reason why you have critized my charitable action and tried to be a distraction from my attraction for the desire of another God. Now, I'm learning in high school I have to ride. Ride away! Ride away from the fact that you have spread my lips from one another and moved my tongue to the side as you poured in a pitcher of pain, and suffering, and melancholy. I ride away from the woman whom when it came down to giving me reassuring love and understanding, failed the best way she knew how to. I ride away from a dysfunctional family tree that starts at the top and infects every branch along the way. A family that can't even come together for the celebration of the eight-second birthday of the origin, who gave birth to this very family. I ride away from the sadness the idea of bad habits brings when I know it can even reach me. And what's more saddening is that all of this may also reach my siblings. I ride away knowing that I will relocate and my mother and I will never be on even remotely amicable terms. I ride away from my family and into the space of my own. There is a type of sanity that is found in the possibility of not just having my own family but being able to break the cycle as well. The love that the owner of my branch didn't give me will be giving to my leaves. And that is true , and its something new, when pure hearts are passed down to, those who, will begin their own haiku, eliminating the kew of destruction. The love that I have faced is one of as winters like trees once filled with leaves and who the hell knows if spring will ever come to set it free!