Coming of age...

When i was 8,

my mother told me,

not to play with broken things

or else i'd get hurt.

When i turned 15 and broke my phone screen

she scolded me on not wanting to get it fixed

and even more so when i cut my finger on the glass,

as she carefully bandaged it up.

But when i left with you

and came home alone the same day;

my tear stained face,

smelling heavily of alcohol and coercion.

all she could do is hold me close

and gently bandage the wound

as i realized that her words

didn't only apply to inanimate objects.