Controlling

I sit on my bed scared, gripping the baby blue bed.

I try to stay safe and quiet when i feel a huge blow from on the back of my head.

I fall to the ground and hear you yell.

But all i can comprhend is the ringing in my mind, it sounds like a bell.

Why do you have to drink? i was only 9 years old.

He throws me outside and i feel so cold.

I ask him why as i start to cry.

He replies "shut up do you want to be like your parents and die?!\"

My tears run down my face and they're the only things keeping me warm.

The weakness of me sets him off as his anger starts to re-form.

He pulled me up whipped me into the wall, blood streaming down my face.

I thought he cared about me and loved me but thats not the case.

I feel something sharp go inside my arm as i pretend this isn't real.

The needles and blades are the only thing i can feel.

It was drugs he put inside of my body, addicted at nine.

At 11 all i can remember was the white, cocaine line.

I'ts like my uncle wants to see me suffer for drugs.

My body breaks into pieces and crawls for existence like slugs.

Darkness fills the room and the scene goes black.

I wake up in a white room with white cloths heales from front to back.

A figure emerges and touches me with a warm and safe sensation.

God gave me this odd angel creation.

She talks to me like my mother use to, and reassures everything will be alright.

I stay in my room watching my life go by and avoiding every fight.

I knew i could do it, as long as i could see.

Cause know my gaurdian angel is watching over me.