⚠️Trigger Warning! Sensitive material follows, including mention of death and murder⚠️
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I sat inside my home, cushions stacked around me, the warm summer sun coming through the window, the sound of my children laughing around me, only interrupted by the occasional drip of water. Drip, drip, drip. I turned to look into the innocent eyes of my children. But where were they? Where were my children? Drip. Drip. Drip. And where was the water coming in from?
Then my eyes fluttered open, and I realised I must've dozed off. Drip. Drip. Drip. I was cold, and the wind blew icily on my skin. Drip. Drip. Drip. And why am I wet? I tried to sit up from the stacked cushions where I lay but found I couldn't. Strange. I lifted my head up as I lay and saw an unfamiliar sight. I saw my TV across the room, and the frames of me and my family hanging above it. This must be my house. But the glass of the tv and frames were broken. Was this my house? It was dark, and I had to squint by burning eyes to see. No, this can't be my house. My house was perfectly sweeped with crayons and toys sitting on the table with a perfectly placed sunflower vase in the middle.
It didn't rain in my house, my house didn't have broken furniture or a hole in the ceiling, my house didn't have bomb shells laying on the floor, my house didn't have small bodies laying still among the rubble. My house was full of light, but not this place. A large black dot was forming in this place, blinding me. I couldn't see. This couldn't be my house, could it?
-10/Aug/2023
YOU ARE READING
Rise Above (My Writing Book: Poetry, Haiku, Etc)
PoetryA collection of me trying out and practising forms of writing. Including poetry, haiku, anaphora loops, etc. This book is me completely experimenting with different writing styles. I am a complete newbie poet and amateur writer just publishing my wo...
