I once was..

I've been lost for words for quite some time,
Reminiscing on the days things were fresh on my mind.
How easy it was, to pick up a pen at the drop of a dime.
Now I struggle for the words line after line-
I once was an Artist at "Story Telling" especially "Mine"
I've wrote sequels to my "Life stories"
Some that would send chills down your spine,
Stories of violence, rape, addictions and Crime.
Domestic violence survivor-
What should of took 7 times to flee it took nine.
It took finally hitting rock bottom, with not enough strength to climb.
It took me watching my kids, night after night run and hide,   
While barricading them in the room with me locked inside.
It took the devil in his eyes every time he couldn't get high.
It took the Blood stained walls that read "bitch i hope you die"
It took the two engines he blew up
in attempts I wouldn't ride.
It took the 5 gallon buckets that splattered when it hit my side.
It took the hospital visits for my son when he "accidently" split open his eye.
It took all the phone calls from the victims he would rob once he got inside.
It took me finally admitting that I wasn't "just fine"
It took hearing Gods voice scream "MY CHILD IT'S TIME"

So you see, once upon a time I was an Artist at "Storytelling" especially mine-