I used to say that When I grow up, I want to be like dad Just thinking about him Tears rise in my eyes I can still hear it Dad’s pantomime laugh Bouncing of the kitchen walls My mother A riot of plates and cutlery Throwing his dinner on the table Him griping about workContinue reading “Remembering”
Category Archives: domesticabuse
Dear me at 17
Your 17. I wrote this because I knew you’d make it. Because you where always going to make it. At times it might of been a stretch. But you can do it. Your year of being 16 may of been different from what you imagined. But the strength you pulled from that year has beenContinue reading “Dear me at 17”
Amy’s Blog 