Weeks passed
Unreturned
phone calls.
Mum can continue to ring.
I won’t answer.
Her tone annoys me.
Frustrating.
Freaking borderline manic.
Her and Dad
argue
about
everything.
Her questions rip me
I replied
“I’m fine.”
“Very busy.”
“The Morays are great.”
“Yep, keeping up with everything.”
Texting easy –
but to speak to them –
would surrender
the guilt in my voice.
I don’t fight enough
I’ve let him
push me
every
time
Though now
the push has stopped.
I still crave the high.
The guilt lingers
living in my worst
nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Stephanie ~ the poems
PoetryShe wanted to be known as the person she was and not who she had become. Until she was okay with who she had become. Then she wanted to be known as who she was and not who she had been. ~ These poems are inspired by the soon to be released novel Ste...
