I leave the bathroom and walk toward the cornered kitchen, a minor kitchen with not enough space, a few counters, a broken fridge, microwave, and a stove pushed into a corner all together, I turn to the petite living room.
A torn small two seated couch, a broken tiny television standing on a dusty fade wall unit, and an insignificant table pushed against the wall with broken chairs, “Not much, but it will work,”
By this point, I’m freezing my ass off, and I’m tired…
Three days have passed since I moved into this tiny house and I feel like s**t, everything aches inside of me and I still feel like s**t.
All the sobbing and frustration experienced in this house by myself left me on the kitchen icy floor alone and curled into a minor ball.
No one will save me, no one is coming for me,
