By Taylr Smaw
i am from broken relationships
from home cooked meals and drunken slurs
scary, silent, the taste of fear is always in the air
i am from a great oak tree,
it branches to everyone but me
i’m from the barbecues and the judgemental eyes
i’m from the need to take control and the quiet nights
from “ Pour me another glass!” and “You can do better.”
sweet peaches, sour cherries, bitter lemons
the drunk nights, rough fights, what a sight!
upon our walls lay broken relationships, everywhere you look, in a frame, in a book, except my room
what's the point of family, if they broke when i was born.