Love or first punch

It's hard to take control under the threat of violence

Artwork on my middle school window that says, God 🖤 you.

The more I write, the more messed up I think my life — or at least my childhood — was.

I got beat up all the time, treated like I was an animal, had no real friends, and my only confidant was our dog, Patches. I remember holding him, pressing my face against him, and telling him he was my only fri…