What Can Be Considered Family
She’s scared
Bottles shatter against the tiled ground
She’s tense
From every footstep on creaky hardwood floors
She listens
For every door opened, the next could be hers
Holding her breath, staying afloat
The bitter venom from a so-called family glides down her throat
Clawing through veins, tearing through the heart,
Replacing it with a pitiful void
It sucks, sucks the emotion and streels it
Causing leaking eyes and stinging arms
Lungs enclosed by a maze of thorns
Eardrums bleed from agonizing shouts
She glares into the bathroom mirror, disgusted
Never able to adjust to the reflection
Of a broken girl, holding on to the few strings of hope
That dangle relentlessly, not giving up
She gasps
The door is thrown open to the world, it unveils
A small, fractured girl
Curled up, wanting nothing more than to be cradled
Able to let go of the present moment
Instead, she was ousted from the nook in the room
Hope slowly transformed into black and purple shades
How, how, can they be considered family?
Families are supposed to wear happy smiles that reach their eyes
Families are supposed to kiss their loved one’s goodnight
And she’s scared
She’s scared that one day
In the very far future
She will gaze upon the ruptured bathroom mirror
Only to discover she is an abuser too
Making others fear her
But one day
In the close future
She will discover a new family
One with warm hugs and smiles that reach their eyes
Butterflies that form in her stomach
Love will begin to course through the veins that were once tainted with venom
And realise that family isn’t blood
Family is where her patchworked heart belongs