Bleak, dark, starry night…
In my room.
Afraid of BANGs, tremors from within
Words that pierce like sharp razor scissor sheers.
Wounds that never heal.
You are nothing to me…
Leave and Go.
Bounce, scramble around this lovely circle of what we call Family.
Seemingly kind and considerate …
yet hateful with greed and jealousy.
Where the wind blows through the fence, rusty and sharp.