Footsteps.
Down the hall.
Closer.
Closer.
Right at the door.
The door creaks open.
Speed walking to the bunk bed.
Sword in hand.
Eyes shut to keep from seeing.
Screaming.
Crying.
Threats.
Attempt.
Screaming.
This time from me.
"Daddy stop!"
Jump from top bunk.
Pulling father away from brother.
Empty attempts.
Crying.
Only Nine years old.
No one else would help.
I had to do something.
Or I would be an only child and really, truly alone.
Push father out of room.
Talk to older brother to see if he's okay.
Yeah, fine.
Quietly walks up ladder to bed.
Tries hardest to sleep.
Nope.
Just crying.
Sleep.
I need it.
Just crying comes for a lot longer than it should.
Endlessly crying.
Why can't I sleep?
Why is my heart pumping so hard?
Why?
My life is always like this, so why am I always crying instead of sleeping?
Even now.
Terror ran through my veins.
Adrenaline pushing me forward.
Tears stinging my throat.
A familiar feeling.
Sleeping, the darkness comforting.
Unfamiliar, strange.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Thơ caSome of them are from my own experiences, and some are not. Good luck trying to figure out which ones are what... ;P
