Against the Wall

To the space in the hall where there sat a shelf, where I would sit and then hide myself,

Mom wouldn't find me until after the smoke, my eyes full of tears and my neck in a choke,

Brother would be angry, and stomp out the door, like he had done many times before,

Daddy had left, about seven years ago, leaving a little girl alone to deal with the sorrow,

And Step Father just yelled and added wood to the flame, and all this time I wondered why I still played this game,

For six years I curled up in that small space, weeping quietly and hiding my face,

I didn't want to leave my spot in the hall, under that shelf, pressed up against the wall,

It became my safe haven, my home inside a house, curled up in my spot, always as quiet as a mouse,

It was in that small place that I grew my stong skin, their words would jump right off I never let them in,

But that house is gone, I wish I had a home to myself, now I don't have my spot by the shelf.