Better things to come

by Young Pasta   Jan 24, 2019


I locked myself in the bathroom. Hearing my dad bang on the door. I tried muffling my crying. This was the second week of this. I knew that I had to get my shit together for school now. I looked in the mirror and relised I was more lost then I thought. I wasn’t the same. I had this moment every morning. I sat down, still hearing the screaming and banging. I didn’t feel safe at all. I thought about never going out of that bathroom, killing myself right there. In that bathtub with the scissors my Dad used to use to cut his hair. The banging stopped but only for so long. I looked down. Then back at the mirror. “You ARE gonna get out of here one day. You’re gonna move far away, to California. You’re gonna live your dream in the music industry one day, and that’s the day you can finally tell yourself that you made it. “ then the banging continued.

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  • 5 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    This gave me shivers reading. This was so personal to read, especially the specific part about California, but I hope and pray you keep that dream alive. That is something to hold on to. This piece read as just a dark snippet yet a reality that you face every day. It brought back memories of waking up and not knowing what to expect, of coming home and wondering if the silence meant it was my dad's anger taking a rest, only to come back stronger than ever.

    Oh, and welcome to this site. I hope it's a safe haven for you and also somewhere where you are able to share and express the emotions that you need to get out. Please keep writing! You have support on here and I hope indeed that better things are on their way.