As I sat, curled into the corner of my bedroom at 1am
Staring off into the abyss even as the stars glistened in the pitch black sky, I rocked my body side to side, "I'm so broken and it's not beautiful and brave as they'd said it be in the poetry I've read." I whispered into the night half hoping someone would appear, throw rocks at my glass window and whisk me away into the sunset, but sadly I sat there till my knees ached and my butt felt numb and the only time I moved was when mom banged on my door the next day and screamed.
"You'll be late for school."
YOU ARE READING
From The Attic (poetry)
PoetryFrom the attic is a book with thoughts and qoutes and countless poems I've stringed together with the scattered words in my mind. any
