I'm 7 years old.
I'm short and cute and full of joy.
My mom is gorgeous and so alive.
My dads so happy and so in love.
I'm so happy this is my life!!
I'm 8 years old.
Mom is sick.
Dad is worried.
I am scared..
"I love you, Mommy."
I'm 9 years old.
My life has changed.
Mom is dead.
My dad isn't the same..
He's on drugs, trying to replace her.
Too bad, Chris. My mother is irreplaceable.
I'm 10 years old.
I'm not the person I was before.
I'm so reckless and so sad.
I could die and would not care.
I think I'm actually going mad.
I'm 11 years old.
It's getting worse.
I think he hates me.
Now he's arrested..
My heart is racing!
I'm 12 years old.
Why isn't it getting better?!
The girlfriend makes me hate myself.
This girl hates me!
"No dad.. there's no one in the walls."
He misses my mom.
I do too..
I'm 13 years old.
I'm done.
I hate myself. I hate you.
It's over!
I down 60 pills, but here yet, here I am.
8 days later, he is born.
There he is, so innocent and pure.
I knew then, this was my mission.
I love my brother as my own.
I will protect him.
I still hate myself.. but he needs me.
I'm 14 years old.
I've never loved someone so much.
This little boy is my world!
This is him, and he is enough.
I'm 15 years old.
I miss him, I love him.
And now it's getting bad again.
I hate it here.. not this home..
But this world.
I don't belong.
YOU ARE READING
Gloomy Days
PuisiJust a collection of my old poems as a morbid, anger-repressed teenager. Not all of them are about blood and murder, I didn't want to put the best ones first. Keep reading!
