Brigitte Von
Stories (3/0)
Dragon
“You can’t change my family,” I said, “They are the ones that ruined me.” He didn’t look at all convinced. “I don’t want to change anyone. I only want to keep you.” That’s how arguments usually start. It’s not heated. It’s not icy. It’s desperate for answers, desperate for someone to understand. I’m not exactly sure if he understood anything I was trying to tell him. Maybe that’s why I got upset. Maybe that’s why I kept so much in and let him believe I was okay.
By Brigitte Von5 years ago in Poets
Burnt Toast
My father thinks life is a smoking building and comes with a state-of-the-art burnt taste, like black toast. He thinks it’s useless, so he throws it away. What he doesn’t realize is that I love burnt toast, the scraps, otherwise thrown away. To him, I am burnt toast.
By Brigitte Von5 years ago in Poets