Lil' drunk, <br />bloody arm.. <br />doesnt matter.. <br /> <br />she came at me with a stick.. <br />no tears.. not like it used to be.. <br />I used to beg for forgiveness.. <br />I used to be down on my knees.. <br />I held up my arms.. for her to hit.. <br />it bleeds.. <br /> <br />I wonder why.. in my mind i think- why not come at me with a knife.. <br />You can end both misery.. <br /> <br />I used to appreciate all the things my ma did. <br />from the hugs, to the advice.. <br />I remember.. when I was 11.. the start of 6 grade.. <br />she'd cook me breakfast everyday.. <br />talking story wit me as she does.. <br /> <br />I cant say I dont miss it.. <br />even blood related, will leave you behind.. <br /> <br />only another reason to get drunk and high.<br /><br />Dislocated Heart<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/another-reason/
