I used to be so sweet and innocent, not a care in the world. My only problem was, should my hair be curled? As years passed, I saw more. I started noticing the dents in the door. Next thing I know I was facing the monsters, not the ones under my bed, the ones with the mouths who always said, "Goodnight." Although is was far from that, we always heard the fights. Sometimes we were even in the middle, right up front, I was still so little. It's getting better now, the worst is in the past. Not that long ago, yet they seem to have moved on. That's probably why I feel so isolated in this place where all I do is see the hatred. I do my best to stay away, still there are those days where I can't leave. At least not physically.
YOU ARE READING
Random sentences.
RandomSo this will just be a book filled with sentence. They will be things I write when I feel like venting or need to say things. Basically this is my poetry-ish type stuff and the place where I just write what I'm feeling or write what comes to mind.
