Childhood. 

(Another old piece of writing found on my  phone.)

Childhood of penetration 

And pink stained cotton pads 

A mother that’s never there 

His lullaby haunts my sleep 

His last breath 

My freedom 
Childhood devoid of emotion 

And big warm hands 

A mother that’s always there

His presence shadows my will

His last breath 

My regret  

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s