le-jour-du-mort

I ran as fast as I could up the stairs, hurrying into the bathroom and locking the door. I knew he was here. I fell to the ground and crawled in between the toilet and the bath, banging my head on the toilet in process. I held in a cry of pain, I didn't want him to know I was here. All was silent, apart from the pounding of my heart in my head. Then, I heard the front door swing open, smashing the picture frame on the wall and sending it crashing to the ground. "Emma, sweetie," My dad called up the stairs. "If you in here, please come out." I knew this was all an act. He'd done his before. Maybe, just maybe if I stay quiet, he'll think I'm ou

Distorted Realities Seeing implement A mother in reverse The fear of broken rope To not be on Breathless time of smaller hands Cartoon robots and cyclops live here Staple glue of compound sentences To decide in a cheese-like way Duplicity Current and breathing Knights fear this word in reverse The tugging of space, the bending of the universe Reality, because there is no riddle in what is real. I speak in riddles because I cannot say my heart. My reality is distorted; my ramblings can tell you why.