S tronger than myself,
You chain me to your wrist and
Narrow my vision
Until all I see is your sadistic face through the tunnel and
Those malicious brown eyes
Above thin, chapped, upturned lips.
T ainting my face, you do,
Painting with tears of both
Joy from your eyes and
The frustrated loss of hope that claims to be mine,
Which I proceed to rub with a scalding cloth
Until raw, I become
So I can claim to be blonde when people question if they saw and
Make a narrow escape from shame.
R un, I cannot; and
However cunning I may be,
You will still be on my tail,
Nose to the ground and posterior in the air,
Gaining speed at an unnerving pace,
Until my skinny knees clatter and
I violently shake,
Vomiting on myself,
Either from exhaustion or fear,
However, the later holds more ground.
E ven my breath becomes yours and
My dreams are at your mercy.
Consider my plea,
Lucky are thee to have me beg,
Thrown to the ground where dirt may stain my face,
An honor rarely reserved for anyone, but
You hold over me all I wish to have.
S neaking past all my guards
In elaborate disguises,
Thrown around in white and
Handed out with smiles,
I run like a fool into you,
Wrapping my arms in a tight embrace,
Greeting you like a friend who hides a knife.
S uffocating under your pressure,
I find myself screaming out.
In the darkest corner, I wish to hide,
Buried in words that cannot hurt,
Contrary to your bitter whispers and
Pestering bites.
Like a wound you fester
Deep beneath my skin.
Yes, I cannot take it.
Under your pressure,
I make myself mute.
My take on an acrostic poem.
Personification and imagery, my two favorite things, all in one(: