untitled:

i never have been asked to put paper to pen about it

and i never want to be asked again

in my mind it is a memory which i want to forget

something that i never want to repeat  

something that i will never let my kin experience

the blur becomes clear when you see it on the screen 

black and white 

a harsh reality which i once lived.

a moment

in our kitchen. 

he looked at me, face red

our eyes connected as he picked up his wine glass

and threw it at me

shards of glass all over me

red wine like blood staining my skin, my cloths, my heart. 

I ran from the room, he followed

so did she into a smaller room where I watch him break her hands.

I began to run again this time out of the house

out of the gate.

I ran into the darkness of a cold night

up the street into the quietest alleyways and backstreets I could find

I didn't want to be found.

It was so dark, midwinter. black

Every time I felt car headlights on my back I hid behind trees, fences, anything

I walked for miles that night

I wanted him to be scared like I had felt.

I walked. I ran and I never came home.