runaway
forced to leave the kitchen table
from underneath
there were calls to be kicked at
as I crawled out
ordered to be exiled to my room
nobody pays attention
to anything around here
so soon thereafter I sneak out
through the front door
easily enough
along the way I met
my oldest brother
telling me I’m in big trouble
hell don’t I know it
I don’t saying a fucking word
moving on in search
of a safer house
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Well, this would make for a painful memory.
I suppose it would, but for me it’s fictional poetry. Thank you for visiting & sharing your thoughts.
In search of a safer HOUSE, is it available in this world!