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My mother’s daughter
It’s hard, being born a daughter!Sometimes I want to resent my mother,But deep down,I wish she had someome to protect herFrom everything she’s been through,The things, we didn’t talk through,No one should live this, though. When I was younger I thought:“I’ll never be this bitter”I didn’t even know what it meant then I picked that…
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Hidden in plain sight
Warmth is that spark,That paints in black,The ghostly surface, Heating my solace.
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Rolling on water
I’m taking the trainI know the train is travelling with meIt’s reassuringTo know it’s there to contain me
