The day my parents split i was only 8 years old,
Memories of their words like spitting fire,
Memories of pressing my hands to my ears so hard it felt like they could bleed,
The day my mom moved out i don't remember.
I remember us starting a new life in a new home,
it was my escape,
From my father who's words would come out like knives soaked in vodka,
I would run into the safety of my mother's arms,
Whose soul is like warm honey,
I didn't like talking about it,
I didn't like telling people i had divorced parents,
Peoples words as fake as imaginary friends,
I'm so sorry to hear that.
It must be hard to have divorced parents.
Their words mean nothing,
I loved having divorced parents,
No more fighting,
No more crying,
No more begging for them to stop,
Two birthdays,
Two Christmas,
Two of everything,
Even though my heart still has the scars,
The panic of seeing them together,
Scared that in a single second everything can change,
The calm demeanor can only last for a small time,
They do it for me because i am their world,
I am the sun,
I am the glue that keeps them together in this world,
No matter how much they hate each other,
They'll play together nicely with scowls hiding behind their grins.
YOU ARE READING
A beautiful messy mind
PoesíaA collection of poetry written about love, life, anxiety, and going from being the villain to the hero of your own story.
