Brooklyn, NY
United States

Eleven ounces lighter, I stepped on the gas pedal, Eleven ounces lighter I had to push a little harder. Breathe.Leaving home was too easy. The goodbyes were only temporary. But, what made it difficult was leaving her. She was a fool, so happy and clueless. It was an odd thing for her to have her childhood stolen. She wanted nothing more than to grow. It wasn’t a slow thing. It wasn’t words that killed her it was the lack of them.  It’s hard to look at broken people. It’s even harder in the mirror. But I will always tell myself that it had to happen. Because it wasn't until I stopped looking that I stumbled upon it again. My eleven ounces, my heart, my childhood, beaten and bruised, but somehow more capable of a deeper love and understanding than ever before.

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741