Blood and water
I used to think blood meant forever,
That family would never hurt you.
“Blood’s thicker than water,” right?
But I take the water—
Wash away the blood,
Remove the red-soaked stains from my life.
Blood thicker than water?
Maybe in another life.
Family—
A word that holds little meaning,
A word they never earned.
They should have been my safe space,
Yet now there’s just an empty space,
A place I no longer belong.
I’m still here,
But they are gone.
I’m the black sheep of the family,
You could say different from the rest.
I never fit, no matter how much
I changed my shape or colour.
I tried to change,
Tried to blend in,
But I hated that I had to pretend—
Pretend to be one of them.
I finally realized maybe the black sheep isn’t bad.
Maybe being different
Is the realest thing this family has ever had.
Copyright © Rebecca Bevan | Year Posted 2025
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