Shouldn't I Have

Yellow lights in the schoolyard rain Kids run home, hear their mothers call their names One says I love you through a half shut door I stood there frozen like I'd heard a ghost before Lunchbox smelled of peanut butter bread Mine was two dry slices and the things I never said I learned young how to stay out of sight How to sit real still when the house got loud at night And I remember asking myself Quiet so nobody else could hear Shouldn't I have felt safe? Shouldn't somebody have stayed? Shouldn't I have mattered too when the whole room filled with rage? Shouldn't I have been held Instead of left alone? Shouldn't a kid have somewhere, somewhere he could go? Homework spread across the kitchen chair Every question turned into heavy air Why are you crying echoed down the hall So I learned tears only made the screaming worse Other kids would run into their mothers' arms I memorized distance, not comfort, not calm Ate my own lunches before I turned ten Tried to act older than I'd ever really been And every night I'd hear the TV glow Wandering if this was how love was supposed to go Oh, shouldn't I have felt safe? Shouldn't somebody have stayed? Shouldn't I have mattered too when the whole room filled with rage? Shouldn't I have been proud To tell somebody your name? Shouldn't childhood feel different than surviving every day? Maybe nothing was wrong with me Maybe I was just too young to see A child shouldn't have to earn being loved Shouldn't have to fear the people he was made of I still remember other mothers saying Love you buddy, see you tonight And I remember wondering Why it never sounded like that in my house Shouldn't I have heard you say you loved me? At least once At least once