Missed the Bullet

I look back at the house that built me very different then the one before that 

what stands in the doorway frightens me

I can hear his drunken slurs and harsh demeanor stares right at me

The spite that I have is now my courage to try to evolve and do different

But here I am running back to that red brick house holding only memories and broken   

hearts, while I’m here scaring myself for no reason

The house that built me hugs me with open arms and a warm heart ready for me when I arrive.

Without it I may have been different, acted and behave different, maybe even been tougher. 

I could have seen myself hiding in that corner of my childhood bedroom worried and

listening to the bicker from the room next door. Suddenly I hear the click of a gun being handled

and ready to aim but suddenly gone

These moments and memories are the last of me and God forbid be used against me