Ripping Through The Pages

She rips through the pages.
And laughs.
Laughs at my emotions.
At my struggling.
At my feelings.
At my life.
And at me.
I desperatly try to grab it away.
This is why I don't keep one.
She says she won't read it.
It's mine.
She's a liar.
She has always lied to me.
When have I ever had privacy?
I don't have it.
I never have.
Back to the room I'm now confined in.
For one long month.
I crawl into my bed.
Five feet above me,
My 13 year old brother lays.
On his bed.
The one place I should have privacy.
I don't.
I shut my eyes.
Drown his voice out.
Lose myself in another nightmare.