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16
I came from a broken home
leaving behind pieces of me
in scattered sites when it's
too much light I invite the night
to escape under the cloak of
darkness where images of
new hope suddenly appear
in darkrooms like family
photographs to frame and
hang on a wall of shame call
it what you want this kind of
pain has no name and it
refuses to go away like a
smoke detector in need of
a battery it tweets and tweets
and it weeps it's hard to peace
while piecing it all together
just to get some sleep
and rest I need but until
then I guess I'll be here
in this world on this earth
writing through the storm
hoping it calms until I pass
