When I was little, I used to think the story of my friend's mom breaking the window in her bedroom just to get away from her husband was crazy. I used to believe she was crazy. But now I applaud her for the courage it took to break the window. I dream of taking a bat to this house. To leave, to take that step in leaving. Now I am here there are plenty of windows I could break. There are plenty of times I could've left. But I find myself sitting in my rocking chair tasting blood in my mouth well he tears down everything we've ever built.
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The live's I've lived
PoetryThis is a collection of poems and pieces of writing. That I have written over the last 2 years of my life. I've never been one to actually live. To take the risk. A lot of the things I have written are about things that have happened in my head. Or...
