Dear Mother
I am not asleep,
I can hear you down the hallway,
I can hear you weep.
You heard his frantic knock,
His drunken slur in the night,
Yet you ran down the stairs,
Ready to collapse into his embrace.
I wonder why you fall for him,
Over and over again,
One punch, two,
Yet you let him back in.
I can hear raised voices now,
Glass shattering,
Heavy footsteps climbing stairs,
His shadow.
I breathe in deep.
YOU ARE READING
Jumbled Thoughts
PoetryI write in here to express myself. This has become my coping mechanism. All poems in here have come from my heart, truly.
