My House ?A Poem by RastaFlowers
Written way back in my early days. May 12th,2009 Inspired by one of the households I was raised in.
My house? The one right here? That I'm sitting in right now? The one that has all my possesions in? Like this blanket that's draped over my head as I write this?
Oh no, this is not my house, I sleep here, sure, I live here, yeah, but this house?
No it's not mine.
This house owns me, like a human owns a dog, the dirty paneled walls fence me in, making sure I never stray too far from the sidewalk. This is the kind of place that swallows you up... and never spits you out.
Dirty dishes make mountians in the cracked sink, flys so thick, you can't even see the aged, yellow ceiling. This trailer dooms you to a never-ending life of broken beer bottles, merciless beatings and roach-covered carpets.
It'll swallow you up...and never spit you out. This house will haunt you forever.
I write this as a condemned girl, doomed to be staring at dirty, paneled wooden fences for the rest of eternity, even when this house runs out of life, there will always be another waiting for me.
It's my fate. There's no escape
It's too late for me.
© 2012 RastaFlowers
AboutHappily in a relationship with a good man and I love him alot. And hes pretty much my life now so I guess that sums it up :) for now anyways Ill write more later, maybe more..