Poem #134

3 1 0
                                        

My childhood home is slowly filling with water. I'm trying to escape but my body is glued to my bed. My existence is held up with these 4 walls 18 years spent asleep in this room. Who am I without the anger that is roaming the halls. Without the monsters under my bed that have gained more courage and come out in the day. Who would I become if I left this house. What if I didn't change.

The live's I've livedWhere stories live. Discover now