my most prominent childhood memory
is when i stood barefoot in the snow
screaming for my mommy.
it was hard to see her go.
i understand now why my father
drinks beer day in and out
because i know the feeling to want something nearer
or close to your mouth.
i was ***** by the same person
who molested me when i was four
i was just sixteen, wasnt even over the first one
same year mommy died, i turned into a *****
i was in love with a hurricane
and it ate me alive
no use for Novocaine,
i could hardly survive.
last hospitalization
the sixth time i spent a week
with intravenous medication
for my soul to keep.
the first song i wrote was
about my step father
as he tried to push mommy down the stairs because
she was drunk, and such a bother
i spent a week at my now passed grandparents' home
with barbies, cookies, not one school day
as young as i was, as little that i had known
my life was not okay
i have been used about 36 times
in different ways, but on different days
and it makes me feel guilty sometimes
i could have coped in better ways
i reach for you like nothing before
no where near the bottle, the blade
i dont want you like the smoke, the noose i almost wore
it came apart, like we did, and so i hoped and prayed
this prose is ugly to the core
my angel would hear me sing
until she started to snore
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
my most prominent childhood memory
is when i stood barefoot in the snow
screaming for my mommy.
it was hard to see her go.
i understand now why my father
drinks beer day in and out
because i know the feeling to want something nearer
or close to your mouth.
i was ***** by the same person
who molested me when i was four
i was just sixteen, wasnt even over the first one
same year mommy died, i turned into a *****
i was in love with a hurricane
and it ate me alive
no use for Novocaine,
i could hardly survive.
last hospitalization
the sixth time i spent a week
with intravenous medication
for my soul to keep.
the first song i wrote was
about my step father
as he tried to push mommy down the stairs because
she was drunk, and such a bother
i spent a week at my now passed grandparents' home
with barbies, cookies, not one school day
as young as i was, as little that i had known
my life was not okay
i have been used about 36 times
in different ways, but on different days
and it makes me feel guilty sometimes
i could have coped in better ways
i reach for you like nothing before
no where near the bottle, the blade
i dont want you like the smoke, the noose i almost wore
it came apart, like we did, and so i hoped and prayed
this prose is ugly to the core
my angel would hear me sing
until she started to snore
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