Home was a house
On the top of a hill
Now it is somewhere else
Home was a place
Where I felt welcomed in
Now, it is silent and still
Oppressive, repressive
Condescension,
Complete loss of will
Freedom of thought
Here is broken
Double speech
Double standards
Casting judgements
Keeping secrets
Taking blame
Bear the shame
So much anxiety
And depression
Around holidays
Home was a house
On the top of a hill
Now it is something else
Home was a place
Where I felt welcomed in
But now, it is silent and still
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Lindsey Soliday and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Parcel
One downside to living in such a rural location was that their nearest neighbors were a good couple miles away, much farther than a malnourished twelve year old can run in the rain before even the slowest of motor vehicles would catch up with him. Layken Page Walker didn’t much meat left on his bones and Uncle Harvey’s car was by no means the slowest in the area. Laytken didn’t make it all that far from home before Uncle Harvey came after him. Uncle Harvey stopped the car, lumbered out, and launched himself at Layken. They both went down in the mud with a gooey splat.
By Lindsey Soliday3 years ago in Families
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.