Hearing doors slam at 1am makes my bones break and eyes bleed into my pillow. Hearing yelling is like nails on a chalkboard making my house the kind people run away from. When father throws objects every which way, filled with rage, I try to stay out of the way but I can't get away from the kind of darkness living inside of him. Mother used to be contained with light, but I think during the night when she lyes with my father in bed, when her eyes shut he pours darkness into her, more and more every night. Now, she's consumed with an evil and I don't know wether the light will ever return to her. This house I live in, contains so much darkness I'm afraid it's going to get to me. If that happens, someone please just shoot me in the head
YOU ARE READING
teenage fools
PoetryI write poetry about life, death, love, hurt, depression, and basically everything.
