The different genders of control

My mother had no control.
While my Father stared blankly at the wall,
she could no longer hide her pain, her fear.
she begged to Him
“please do something.”
And my Father got up and left.

But my Brother was home
again.
Again
He took me out into the cold of night
Driving me somewhere to get His next fix,
already high on heroin and adrenaline,
while i was numb to the fear.

my mother had no control.
As my Brother threw our belongings at the wall,
i could only hide with my bedroom door locked.
i heard her beg
“please do something.”
And my Brother laughed at her face.

But I was at home
again.
Again
I took the knife in My adolescent hands
marking My own thighs to get My own fix,
sick and tired of My own pain, My own fear.
While then I didn’t know
that at just 14 i lost control.