I cower away in the corner,
arms over my head,
slowly I curl up, into a little ball
oh ... when will it end, I ask.
The yelling and the screaming,
and the slamming of doors.
I can't stand the arguments no more,
between my parents and brother,
not the way I once used to.

My sanctuary
I long for once more, right now.
That, I find in you.
Please come home ... soon.

Written: Saturday 22 December 2001