his mood is like this poison and it soaks the air and suddenly every word is weighted with it, spitting from people's mouths like bullets while a dozen angry opinions create storms on my head that don't spill over because he will always be older and stronger and in control of me so i run away because i know if i stay a second longer the bullets will begin to fly and he remains wondering out loud what that hell he did wrong.
YOU ARE READING
inkling
Poetrya collection of words straight from thoughts to paper. (cover credit to @ParisLove-)
