Flashback #1 (story, not poem)

Games in the mind

I use to sit on the phone with Sal. He would cut himself on the hone with me. and i would sit there and cry, begging him to stop. The next day, I would see all the cuts he had put onto his wrists. And he would tell me he was going to kill himself every other week. He screwed me up. Badly.
My "Dad" didn't help this either. He would out a gun to his head and say he was going to kill himself infront of us....infront of me, His youngest daughter. He said that all the time. And he hit me...when he got sent to that mental insistute...i thought that when he got out...he was going to kill me....with all the gun and knives in the house....that's why i'm afraid of guns and knives. Because of my "dad"......

Author's Notes/Comments: 

If you want to know about me, read these. but only if you want to understand why i do, what i do.

View koriand'r's Full Portfolio