I watched powder rule my father's world.
I saw him cut my mom with broken glass and rip her hair.
I remember the flashing lights and the aggressive shouts.
My first home away from home wasn't the same as my little brother's.
I had to learn to be the new kid over and over again.
And to forget my little brother existed.
I saw new and dangerous streets as I got taken to a new home.
By the time I saw my brother again, he'd forgotten who I was.
But it was better that way.
Now I'm almost 18 and nearly independent.
In this world there is the temptation of drugs and violence and separation.
But none of that scares me.
I only fear never having a family
to call my own.