i beg my mother for the pills. please mom, i say, my head really hurts! i insist and insist, but the answer is still no. i bang my head against a wall, tear fingernails against my legs, so maybe new pain, physical pain, will replace the pain eating away at my brain.
i sit still, willing myself not to squirm; dont move, i tell myself. if i close my eyes, everything will turn out fine. the punching and hitting and kicking in my mind week turn off; she'll go away. she'll have enough for today.
surprise, its not enough. its never enough for her, she doesn't have a stomach so she can never be full; she can never have enough of me and my misery; she is my misery; she is my pain.
i prance down the stairs and take the painkillers and kill her.
she doesn't have a stomach, but i do, and it kills me too.
finally, this might be enough.
//
authors note: about a girl who ruined my life. im not actually a drug addict and im not suicidal don't worry. love my readers :))
YOU ARE READING
this little fight
Poetryi paint my eyes with words and my mind with thoughts. a collection of slam poems.
