You're supposed to be there for me.

Instead, your hand meets my face,

In your fit of rage.

You're supposed to keep me safe.

Instead, you're the one I always run from,

When you start drinking.

You're supposed to love me.

Instead, I'm the always the one your fist goes to first,

After work is done.

You're supposed to care about me.

Instead, all you do is push me around,

While your free hand holds the devil.

You're supposed to lift me up.

Instead, it is you who is found guilty,

When I "fall" down the stairs,

And land in a crumpled heap,

At the bottom.

Is that enough to wake you up?

Is that enough to help you?

I want to love you,

But I just don't know how.

Oh well.

Better me than my sisters.