My parents divorced when I was 10, and at that time I stupidly had a boyfriend, who abused me and I walked home every day with bruises and a new lie. I am now 15 and am strugling with getting away from my abusive mother who drinks herself to sleep every night. I am planning on moving to New York when I am 18. I write poems to get thing off my chest. And I quite honestly don't care who reads them.
Filled up like the sea,
One that none shall see.
A little book of maddness,
That is filled with saddness.
...
She is staring out the window again.
Looking at something distant.
Past the parking lot.
Past the trees.
...
Yellowed pages; Thin and frail.
Yellowed pages; Tell my tale.
Yellowed pages; Keep my secrets.
Hiding in plain sight
...
Can't you see the bags under her eyes?
The way that she stays up so late at night?
Can't you see the way she cries
Not too hard, so, so light?
...