An Oasis by E.E. (Writing Our Stories)

Starting to get hit

at such a young age.

Just thinking about all the blood I spit,

not following on the same page.

I begin to cry every single night.

She tries to comfort me

to make me feel all right.

I just think about my life,

every bit of rage I have inside.

I wish he was gone,

like every other night.

I just keep on thinking

she’s the oasis

I need in a time of fright.