It was their floors we learned to walk on
Mama and Daddy own everything from the clothes on our backs to the food in our stomachs
Down to our very being
We are their property
We do what they say when they say it
No questions asked
No bodily autonomy
Our every move watched just carelessly enough to always be in trouble
We learned to walk on our Mother's and Father's floors slowly and silently
We are memorizing every creak and every crick in every floor board to avoid every sore and every scar we will recieve with just the wrong sound at just the wrong moment
It's their floor we're walking on
They were up late that night they'll be up early for work in the morning
They work to buy the food for our stomachs and the clothes for our backs
Remember we are children and can not survive without them
We know how dearly we will regret making their floor boards
Creak... and crick...
But they did their best with what they had.
YOU ARE READING
A Flower in the Wind
Poetry+++++This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.+++++ TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE THEMES COVERED IN THIS PIECE: SELF HARM, PARENTAL AND INTIMATE PARTNER ABUSE (DOMESTIC ABUSE)...
