I know who you run to
I know which way you run home
To a house Where each whisper was a scream
And Where each tear ran across your face like knives
Because mummy used to cry just as hard as daddy would hit
And Even though you can't possibly measure the amount of Tears she wept,
They could probably fill all the empty bottles daddy leaves around the house
its just something you know like how on every tuesday daddy would leave with all the money and not come Back until friday because by then He'd Lost on blackjack, Or poker, anything He could bet a Future on
Mummy used to grab the kitchen knife and cut her own skin whenever daddy left
She always took More medicine as well
She used to look out of the window for hours wishing for angels
Until one day daddy didnt come Back Or rather when He did He didnt stay, said He doesn't want our money and that he's better than us
I guess He finally won
Or rather we did
YOU ARE READING
To You From Me
PoetryI write what I feel in the moment I feel it And write the words as I see them It's just A book of poems Maybe its worth a read to you, But also maybe its not. "The fixation of beauty is always looking through a telescope and always failing to see th...
