Orphan By Choice

I watch you play, knowing you will grow up one day and wonder why your father didn't want you, why your mother didn't raise you, despite everything your grandmother ever said, and you think she must be the only one in the world who cares you exist.
You have a life that she controls, you are not my mother, you scream at her, my mother is dead, as she looks at you in pity that you pretend not to see, and she pretends isn't there, as she swears at you and you pretend not to listen, so she reaches for the broom to teach you a lesson.
She tells you not to hang out with them, and you ask her what do you know about my friends, she says more than you will ever know, I will not stand by and watch you go the same way, I will do what I should've done a long time ago, so if you ever skip class again, I will whoop your ass, and theirs too.
Now go get me my reading glasses and your history book.

Her friends look at you and sigh when she is not around, talking of that poor little orphan finding a likewise companion, and you rebel inside, you and your orphan friend do not speak of it or relate, because she longs for a certain type of people, the type that you hate, and you think through gritted teeth, that these women know nothing: orphans are those left alone by fate, you are orphan by a choice that was never yours. 
You are no orphan, boy. But you live like one.
That is something I foresee in the future, so for now, I will try to block out the sounds of your grandmother's shock, and laments on the phone to her friends of the new development, as we watch you play with your father's old toys, asking for mama, and my heart pounds bile to my throat, and blood to my red eyes, I sip tea to keep it down, silently I promise to be around in your life.