As I fall asleep
I hear the snakes hissing under my bed

I discovered them when I was a little girl
the first time one crawled up under my skirt

they left marks all over my body
scars I can't remove

I still find myself scrubbing so hard
trying to remove their mark

I still dream that they are all over me
I can't make them go away

The world is beautiful.
It is so much more than this room, than this house, than the pain I've been trough.
I can get out of here one day.
Good things are coming.
Love is out there.
Life is so much better than what I've seen so far.
And I will prove it to myself.

My mother was always an overpowering shadow luring behind me
As I grew up, all I knew was not to end up like her
My family never looked away from me
The daughter of the disappointment
One part of me was born a disaster, the other a prophecy
To break away from destiny, to change fate
The weight grew heavy upon my shoulders
As I got older, they began telling me I had her eyes
Every time I gasped for air in the same way she did
Over indulgent, impulsive little girl
Those times I slip away from my own my own grasp
I see not myself but her in the mirror
Broken glass shards cut the soles of my feet open, a beautiful red paint emerges
And my childhood nightmares come true in the blink of an eye
I am exactly like her.

I used to convince myself you'd get better,
like after winter, flowers will bloom once again.
In waiting for the snow to melt,
the ice has encapsulated my heart.
Frozen in time, our house carries a silent testimony of our pain.
I have to get out, you know that too.
To find the summer again,
one must leave the winter in the past.
if you're not ready,
I will do it alone.

I hate the word nostalgia.
It scratches the back of my throat as I say it.
The memory of a childhood.
Careless, free, happy.
Or at least, for them.
For me, it's a painful look back
To a time where I did nothing but survive
To happy moments
That were filled with silent rage and tears
Is comfort really comfort
If you know it's temporary?
Because,
I don't remember the last time I was carefree
Oblivious, yes. But not carefree.
I didn't know what was happening,
But I knew how I felt.
Unsafe, abandoned, cold and confused.
The pink walls of my childhood bedroom
The princess stickers on the walls
They they see what was going on?
Or did they close their eyes too?