If my bones could speak

” Mornings are not the best time to cry, because no one wishes to be seen by the world at their lowest. No one wishes to go around with a heavy heart, or with the sting of tears in their eyes.” This is what I want to type to her when my father calls out for me. So I curse under my breath as the call comes a second time knowing that if i don’t show up, voices are going to be raised. Tempers are going to flare, and maybe, just maybe, feet will be stomped.