Five jars.
Five jars of dead flowers.  
Every one ,
a present to me,
one for each thing my mother feels guilty for.
Leaving me.
Having me.
Ignoring me.  
Forcing me to do things I don’t want to do.
Jealousy of my success.  
As each petal withers and wilts,
I can read the pain in her face.
She didn’t want me.  
I'm not sure if she even does now.
My body a stem she wants to cut from her life.
But, I grew my thorns to keep that from happening
No body wants to touch a prickly rose.  
Thats the problem,
No body wants to get close to me.  
I bleed dirt.
I’m like a punching sack full of mulch,
bulky and unnecessary.
Despite my lack of water and love,
I’m still standing tall.  
Things are getting better
The sun shines a lot more for me these days.
Now I finally know what it means to enjoy it,
as a daisy in the field
small and innocent once more.

It's a strange feeling,
being too scared to leave your home,
to have to lock the doors,
and keep checking to make sure they stay locked,
to have people come get you if they want to go on a walk,
to have your mom tell you that she doesn't want you walking alone at any hour,
you even have to drive to work.
I'm terrified.
I don't feel safe being home alone,
being outside,
being in my hometown,
being in my county,
being in my state.
I'm terrified of the things she's capable of.
I'm terrified of the means she's willing to go to,
just to make herself feel better.
I'm terrified of the darkness she brings,
the shadow she casts on my happy life.
And the worst part is,
**I'm not the only one who's terrified of her.

i´ve been walking on rocky Ground
trying to lift heavy Stones,
rolling them uphill, pulling them down
shaking, stumbling, shoving

it took me a while to realize one thing
some Stones never move
some Rocks never roll
never turning, tipping, trembling

so this Ground will stay rocky
a few Stones will move
some mark my Way
but i´ll be walking, wandering, winning