^that is me as a baby.
do you see my hair?
i was told that my mother never washed my hair.
she had my hair in plats until i was like 5.
when they finally took the plats out,
i had a bad rash and fungus underneath.
they found it disappointingly funny when i was told the story.
If my mother didn’t have any clue how to raise me,
why didn’t she just kill me?
she could have lived her life freely without the responsibility.
i think i was destined to either be a drug addict or a crazy person.
all the adults in my life didn’t help me in my growth at all…
my reality is different from some of my family members it seems.
i’m starting to realize that.
even though i love my grandmother,
it is no secret that she was abusive to us.
i think many caribbean people faced a shit ton of abuse.
the last conversation i had with my father made me realize something…