I sit here
My phone not buzzing
My parents stomping
My heart is racing
No one to talk to
a judge at the front
The trial has
Gone on for a month
Secrets come forward
That were buried deep
Things such as illness
And things that will beat
Up the judge
How could this happen
Since i was a little girl
In the house that i napped in
But no one to talk to
For 14 long years
No one to come forward
And dry off my tears
When the judge asks me
Where i want to go
I say to my friend's house
Yet the judge just says no
I have to pick
A angry mother?
to runaway
A angry father?
I wouldn't stay
But here is my choice
I say here today
the truth i must hoist
That my life has been hell
Since i was born
But I'm sure
There are more worse to mourn
But the judge says
This is a court
Not a speech trial
This is divorce
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. From the broken soul.
PoetryPoetry written over a time span of over ten years. This includes some of my darkest and lightest moments and the stories of others. Most deal with topics such as suicide, depression, family, eating disorders, religion, self harm, acceptance, recover...
