this wild ride I'm on
i really don't like it
this road I travel
is broken and cracked.
These memories I hold
stab my wrists.
Like I mirror,
showing everything through its body,
the world's twists and turns
and unexpected burns.
This place I live
seems to consume me.
Like a dog barks,
I cry.
seems like every day.
And I'm sorry that I could not hold it together one more day.
But its the memories that makes me scared.
The ones like this:
I can remember
going to bed.
I was so ready
to end the day.
I had just fixed my bed.
I climbed in
my bunk bed,
brother on top.
Suddenly,
I felt my leg getting pulled with an aggressive tug.
I saw his eyes
his eyes
they were studying me,
my fear induced face.
Then he swung me into my dresser.
A bang echoed through the house.
Brother crying,
mom lying
saying I deserved this.
He continued to slam
my eight year old body,
all over
my violent-infested room.
My back.
The pain.
No gain
After it ended,
I was told to stop crying,
to stop trying
Fear still invades my breath.
The mirror saw it all.
It never got to tell my story.
That mirror
has seen me cry,
and has seen me sop up my own blood.
It has seen me
burn myself
It has seen me
mock myself
and the mirror has seen him too.
Its seen all he's done.
All those things hang
on the wall above.
Mirror, liberate me.
Mirror,
free me,
from this hate infested dimension.