and we invite ourselves in broken houses
in empty apartments
and run-down barns
with only the lingering scent of alcohol
wafting around
and we invite ourselves in bloody houses
scattered pieces of abandoned toys
and unused make-up
with only dirt
to nestle on them
and we invite ourselves in in broken houses
that scream of forgotten promises
and unanswered questions
filled with heartbreaking hellos
and silenced goodbyes
and we invite ourselves in bloody houses
-in broken homes
of childhood traumas
we seek to answer
yet we are only left, still asking
YOU ARE READING
Word Vomit
Randoma collection/compilation of short stories, rants, prose, and poetry. Disclaimer! All the pictures r not mine but from Pinterest so ctto.