Death By The Divide
It was a warm December as we drove
‘round and through the boulevards,
looking for the final exit.
Our getaway dream, or so, it seemed,
fueled with hysteria, cigarettes
I moved out of my parents’ home when I was seventeen. I was effectively a mess by then for various reasons — the stresses of a typical teenager, together with a unhealthy dollop of parentification and separate sexual abuse. It was not something that I had insight into at the time, but…