The Thing That Made You

I try to understand:

You grew up poor and the Depression shaped you, so all you had was what you didn’t have,

And you didn’t know how to get without taking.

How you thought life had failed you, leaving you with nothing but

Not enough hope to keep the bitterness from seeping out of your skin with

Yesterday’s alcohol.

How it clawed its way into your bones until all you were was anger,

And the thing that made you is what I need to forgive you for,

But can’t.

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