escape through poetry
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I am Abused. I wonder what i have done wrong. I hear the slaps and hits of skin against skin. I see them coming to my room. I want them to walk on by. I am Abused. I pretend nothing is wrong. I feel the bruises and broken bones.
You have no idea what home is like.
Salty tears, broken bones, and shattered lights.
Leaving home makes my mind wonder.
I feel nauseous- I have to save her.
I sit in class, head to table-
At the worst of times,
Written word and the resounding tones of my sister's voice became my best allies.
When my parents used liquid courage and fists to bodies as communication,
