my lost piece by andrew kitchen

I believe in people.

   When I was growing up I longed to know who I was, I felt incomplete, a puzzle piece missing. A child so young feeling lost, helpless and I didn't believe in anyone. I wanted my real mom. I kept telling myself it was for the good, she left me for a better cause, I lied. Even though I knew what they were doing. If my so-called “dream” came true I would have a different purpose.

    To escape. To escape the abuse, neglection, to escape the hunger brought to me when my parents chose to spend our food money on drugs instead of giving me a meal.

   Am I forgotten?

   I realized I've been trying to escape the entire time, escape the fact that there are people that love me, that I believe in now, I'm their family and their mine. But I still struggle to learn to be apart of my family, at times I find myself looking at other perfect families contemplating how that's their kid, how they look alike, or When they get a comment from other people saying how much they look like each other. I never get that.

 I feel bewildered, I'm in a complex situation where I don't know anything. It’s changed me to become more adapting and flexible. People have so much opportunity to change things. Emotions, buildings, the whole world. But they decide to give it up. To help kids in need of a home. I believe they will make a change. In other words.

  I believe in people.