Below is a fragment of the post for this challenge, left undone with the death of my computer. As of now, the narrator is not speaking to me, perhaps angry at being left so long in limbo. I decided to post the fragment anyway, hoping it might allow him to return.
Below that is three-line poem also from this challenge.
If obsessed was the word they used to describe me, that was okay. Should the truth hurt now, after so many years of painful silence? Nobody cared to understand my point of view before so, what the fick, I ignored theirs.
In my family, the kid who fought best was allowed into the golden ring of my parent’s attention. More time that not, I wasn’t that boy, little more than a thing invisible and forgotten.
That didn’t last either, what with people who never acted like parents sinking deeper into the world of drugs. Sitting in the 5 x 8 of my world, I wonder why we wanted so desperately to be seen?
Come to think, I realized…..
Hours golden spun
Obsessed in golden cages
Longing for a home.