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House Guest


I feel like a guest in my own home
A strange, awkward place for me to roam
Once I was a Queen, and this my palace
Now a guest I sit in silence
My voice once heard loud and clear
Now is weak and hard to hear
Rules I once was able to make..
Only rues made now are ones I have to take
When the fuck did this happen?
Where is my home? 
I'm tired of the roam
This is MY home
The silence I cannot take 
The rules I must break 
For this is MY Kingdom, MY Palace MY home
I'll be god damned to be the mother fucker that roams
 
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ivymae

My poems reflect the feelings I had during my abusive relationship, where I was held against my will and abused. The feelings are raw and real.

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