The kids leave the park
when the black demonia boots run up
long black hair,
they swear I'll never cut it,
they're not wrong.
It's all I have left.
Between my shredded innocence
And my disspearing magic trick happiness.
I hold on to the chains of the wooden swing
pumping back and forth
The wind guiding my body up and away
a swift kick to mother and father
with each movement.
A release sent as a punch to my enemies.
Locked in depression,
drawn to sad things,
but days on the swings are different.
Soaring,
high throughout the sky.
All the kids who said I never could
stand in awe
watch with curiosity.
Wind cuts slits into my back
wings unfold and off I go.
Mother, father,
say goodbye, it's my time to fly.
-----
This whole book was orginally written an uploaded in March of 2015 and edited in july of 2016
Things to be weary of- mentions of ra.pe, mentions of self harm, mentioms of suicide (I think)
