Junk Yard

Honey stared outside at the yard
littered with broken furniture
and heard the thousand sounds rain made
falling on the junk yard, drumming like a symphony
a thousand voice singing.
She turned around and listened to the quiet house
her parents were no longer fighting
no longer shouting profanities
yes, she knew what they were
she snuck out to old Betsy’s place next door when she could
Betsy had an old TV you see
and the two would keep it company over tea and broken biscuits
when Honey was home alone
which was mostly
her mum didn’t count really, hungover and barely able to speak.
Honey quietly pushed the door open
and stepped out in the rain
feeling beads of water falling on her face
and that’s when she cried
under the mask of rain
she let it out.
She wanted change
someone to care for her
someone to say, ‘Oh Honey, let me get you a plate’.
She stood under the rain for as long as she could
till the darkness took over
and the yard looked friendly no more.
She hated to go inside
for it was no home
a room she had to herself
the couch as her bed
and no one at night bothered to read a story
or tuck her in and kiss her goodnight.
There was good old Betsy
who would welcome darling Honey home
and tuck her in with a story
and a glass of milk
but only on the nights she was alone.
But it wasn’t just the sky crying tonight
it was Honey’s heart breaking
for this morning when she’d gone over
Betsy was no more.
Today, no one had cared for Honey
just another broken thing to add to the pile outside.

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