“help…”
By: Still_Remain

The kitchen, is where family are supposed to gather and eat,
Not get rushed into the corner to meet a fist and begin to get beat,
Well this is how my kitchen is, when people get pissed,
I’m always pinned in the corner arms up emotions missed,
Heart crumbles, I thought family’s stuck together?
Through thick and thin, our love was weathered.
We never came to be, what you with you had and see,
We were the exact opposite of the beautiful family’s on TV,
Agreed over nothing, but something, that I was an accident,
The best muscle… my heart is currently dead and bent,
God sent? Not at all, this wasn’t his call…
On the level of which I fall, isn’t right at all.
He comes for the door; I run and hit the floor,
Life’s never a bore, when you’re being hit and called a whore,
I duck down and crawl into the spot I find in the kitchen,
Will he find me here? I hope not, I’m wishin
Sweat rolls as my face swelters…
The cabinet where I hide… is my only shelter