Patience : Lucas/Yukhei

-4

Another walk home.

The torturous walk home that had your stomach churning every time.

You walked in the door to the smell of alcohol and smoke, signalling that she was fine.

You rushed up to your room to find a book

Maybe you could start a diary.

Looking through drawers in your room, you found an old book that was worn out

But the pages were empty.

Thoughts were running through your head at a million miles per hour, so you tried to jot them all down as quickly as possible.

A loud bang was heard as your bedroom door swung open.

It was you mother, she was drunk.

Way too drunk.

She yelled at you, asking what you were doing.

She took the diary from your hands and asked why you were writing down your feelings

She said nobody even cared about my feelings, just like nobody cared about me.

She reminded me that I was worthless and that I should have been aborted.

This wasn't rare, but it also wasn't occasional.

She stormed out of your room and took the book with her.

You slammed your door shut and fell to the floor.

Tears just kept falling

And falling

And falling...