Nah—
Kids don’t deserve pain, don’t deserve this shit,
Don’t deserve fear in their chest every time someone flips.
Don’t deserve learning silence before they learn their name,
Don’t deserve carrying grown-ass people’s shame.
Not me.
Not you.
Not a single kid should be paying dues
For a fucked-up world and adults who lie,
Calling control “love” just to justify.
I’m mad as hell at the nights we learned to freeze,
Mad at the prayers whispered on bruised-up knees.
Mad that innocence had to grow up fast,
Mad that safety is a thing of the past.
Who the fuck told you fear was normal?
Who the fuck said pain was “care”?
Who crossed those lines and then acted surprised
When a child grew up scared of being touched or stared?
Children aren’t lessons.
They aren’t sacrifices.
They aren’t punching bags for broken adults’ vices.
They aren’t meant to carry generational hell,
They aren’t meant to bleed so others can “heal” themselves.
Not me.
Not you.
Not the little girl hiding in her room,
Not the little boy dissociating just to survive,
Not the kid begging God just to feel alive.
I’m pissed at the world that looks away,
At the systems that protect the ones who prey.
Pissed that “family” became a word that cuts,
Pissed that love came with fists and threats and “shut the fuck up.”
You don’t get to call it love if it leaves a scar.
You don’t get to call it teaching if it breaks who you are.
You don’t get to say “I tried” when a child still shakes,
When their nervous system lives in constant earthquakes.
So I’m saying it loud, with my chest, with my fire:
No child is born to be forged in trauma and wire.
No child is meant to be tough to survive your home.
No child should ever feel that fucking alone.
Not me.
Not you.
Not the kids who were just trying to make it through.
We deserved safety.
We deserved peace.
We deserved love that didn’t come with teeth.
And yeah, I’m angry.
Not reckless—
Protective.
That’s the part of me that stands in front of the child I was and says:
“This ends with me. This shit stops here.”
trixses
