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Kacie Riddle Poem
My father drank himself half to death.
I tried to understand why.
But I became stumped and hurt every time I thought about it.
He became drunk and argumentative but always assured us he never meant it.
I became my mother’s best friend more than a daughter.
She would ask for advice and I would give my honest opinion.
Whether it was offensive or complete profanity.
She took it in and thought yet never took any suggestions.
My parents fought like siblings with a huge age gap.
Neither ever understood the other.
Late nights at work and early afternoons at the bar.
I was born in the middle of a fiery war.
My older sister is lucky she isn’t related to my father.
Her father may be a deadbeat but mine, in a few years, may actually be dead.
My brother has enough of his own problems, why distract him with our fathers’.
All of us aren’t full siblings, may be that’s a good thing.
I’m talking to the younger me when I write down my memories of my dad.
But I’m giving my future self more reading material for cringing.
Reliving the memories I never understood as a child.
And once I’m older I’ll relive the memories again, but this time understand them the way 16 year old me did.
Having an alcoholic father taught me that I’m not the only one with trust issues.
Seeing another empty bottle but only seeing another broken promise.
Having an alcoholic father taught me that sometimes you can find closer family in strangers.
My friends are my non-biological family that grew closer to me than my father and I since I was 7.
Having an alcoholic father has taught me that my heart has been broken so many times.
It’s hard for me to love and become close to people anymore.
Having an alcoholic father has taught me to open up my eyes to others problems.
That’s why I can now see I have a sister who’s addicted to pain meds and a brother who’s handicapped.
Copyright © Kacie Riddle | Year Posted 2018
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Kacie Riddle Poem
His red hair is almost as on fire as my cheeks when he kisses me.
The smile he flashes me from across the room, can make me feel warm everywhere.
When his hand is intertwined with mine, everything else melts.
And when he hugs me, there is absolutely nothing else around us.
It's funny how I never knew how to love.
I’d never been in love, never.
I was hurt so many times, that I thought love meant someone leaving.
Once I got too close the person would dip out, an leave me there.
He had been with others before me, probably better than me.
He didn't have to start talking to me, but thank god he did.
So many others he could’ve started talking to, but me?
Why me?
You know that feeling when you see someone really cute?
Butterflies? Stuttering, stumbling?
That when they say “Hi.” you say something like, “Happy Birthday.” No? Just me?
Well point is, I feel that way around him, all the time.
I compared myself to the girls before me.
I apologized for being new to the dating scene.
For having no experience with loving someone or being loved.
Everything I think I’m doing wrong, her just assures me that I’m wonderful at.
What I’m trying to say is…
For every time I’ve spent hours talking to you, I hope there are a million more.
For everyday I’m with you, I hope that one day there will be no day where we are not together.
For every second you are on my mind, there is none that you aren’t on my mind.
Foe every time I’m so close to crying in front of you, but you tell me everything will be okay.
For every single time I smile when your name pops up on my screen, know there is nothing someone could do to change how I feel.
People say that to say those 3 words you need time in a relationship, but it isn’t about time. It’s about how you feel when you’re with that person.
I want you to know I feel like this poem when I’m with you, I love you.
Copyright © Kacie Riddle | Year Posted 2019
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Kacie Riddle Poem
Maybe it’s time for me to talk about it.
By it I mean bullying.
Bullies, maybe they don’t know what they’re doing.
Bullied, definitely don’t know why they’re doing it.
Question, bullies what they hell?
Bullies do you think pointing out the biggest insecurities of a person is fun?
Do you think putting down the biggest group of people with anxiety is cool?
Do you think making insecure kids wanna die is funny?
Dear bullies, this is a poem or letter for you.
I can’t speak to you personally because there’s too many of you to count.
There’s more of you than there are insults to say to someone.
All of you are using cliches to insult us, why? No new material?
Dear bullies, for all the people you’ve put down, you should know this.
None of us are alone, we stick together we are the only ones that will understand.
And for all the people that have been bullied before, even if you don’t admit it.
I’m sorry, sorry for everything that you had to go through. You don’t deserve that, but you’re not alone.
Believe me when I say, you are NOT alone.
Copyright © Kacie Riddle | Year Posted 2018
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