If the walls could
Bleed they would
Be dead
By now
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryGrowing up and being raised by two narcissist I sometimes had a hard time knowing what was true and what was false. This uncertainty about reality grasped and held my childhood years captive until I broke free from the strings through which my paren...
The Walls
If the walls could
Bleed they would
Be dead
By now
