Coming of age...
When i was 8,
my mother told me,
not to play with broken things
or else i'd get hurt.
When i turned 15 and broke my phone screen
she scolded me on not wanting to get it fixed
and even more so when i cut my finger on the glass,
as she carefully bandaged it up.
But when i left with you
and came home alone the same day;
my tear stained face,
smelling heavily of alcohol and coercion.
all she could do is hold me close
and gently bandage the wound
as i realized that her words
didn't only apply to inanimate objects.