Never have I seen so much hatred in the eyes of the man who was the reason I opened my own.
Never have I seen so much fear in the eyes of the women I once saw as the strongest warrior.
In this house is where I lay my thoughts, but it will never be called home.
Isolation is my home, rarely does one ever knock.
To sit here and have comfort in the orange painted walls and meaningless decor, is a feeling that’ll never be encountered.
Looking through the window and into the grey sky, birds swift with the wind, and I too wish to able to fly away from the grey that is my life.
In my bed, I dream of sleep,
my death without such commitment.
But yet I stay, yet I fight and yet I manage to be all that is my beliefs in what is meant for one, will be.
I am meant to soar higher than my bedroom ceiling.
I am meant to be a strong as my will of not turning the other way.
I am meant to be something more than what is perceived of my lack of disciple and neglect for settling.
I am meant for better.
Given these eyes by the man who now hates me,
they shut, while my mind still at work.
I’m the warrior my mother wished me to be, and now she is in envy of what she could not see in me.