January 1 2020
By, Sandra Monday
Mom all you cared about was booze and pot,
so you didn't care alot
Dad you hid in your shop growing closer to machines than me.
the house was filthy and falling apart
I raised myself alone, washed the dishes for you when I came home.
and for my efforts you ignored and beat me
no siblings to play with
and friendless in school
All I had were books, from popular kids came dirty looks
I learned to live in my head; my wild imagination became my psychological simulation.
I went to theatre university and became an expert at pretend
met
people who I thought were my friends,
backstabbing losers
traveled to Europe
acted, modeled, tried to kill myself
but God wouldn't let me die
so many boys would lie
and here it is 2020
and I woke up this morning
thinking it's a miracle I am still alive.
To earn tokens and access the decentralized web, select an option below
(It's easier than you think)