Caged.
I feel Caged, your on every side of my body.
Leave me alone!
Don't touch me!
God please help! stop him!
Go away!
I don't need you!
Get- Get away!
STOP-
I Shot up, sweat covering every bit of my body, I look around, shocked.
It was just a dream.
You smile at my now sleeping figure and jump from my window seal.

Poems and Reading is the center of the earth and sanity it's self.
~Kat Herondale

"Am I going to die *****?" You ask from your hospital bed, you look so pale with out your brilliant red hair, I smile sadly as a tear escapes my eye.

"No, go to sleep baby girl, I'll be here when you wake." My voice cracks at the end, but you don't hear.

Your heart monitor slows, and my small whimpers turn to sobs, doctors rush in- but your already gone.

Goodbye Baby Girl.
I love you.
~Kat Herondale

People say sheltering your child is good.
No one can hurt them,
no one can bully them,
And It makes them feel loved, but it don't for me.

But no one thinks about the child, and how they feel.
I feel insane, alone, I get paranoid when I'm outside because I'm afraid you'll disapprove of me once more.

I always feel like I'm not enough, I always feel ashamed,
I always feel lonely,
I always feel blamed,

When I get taught that you'll never be enough,
I don't know,
But I know you'll never be proud of me,
That's for sure.

One day I will grow older and look back and say,
'I'm happy I'm older, I didn't want to stay.'
I'll be less paranoid, I'll be able to go outside without fear.


I'll be less sheltered from the horrible world I now have to now know,
But because of you, I don't expect anyone to **** me because I walk down an ally, I don't expect to get shot when I walk in on a drug deal.

They say sheltering children is good,
No one can hurt them,
No one can bully them,
And it makes them feel more loved, but it never did for me.

I stare at you angrily,
After what you did, I cried for hours.
While you lie, cool as a cucumber, smiling right next to me,
In your birthday suit, I hate you much, brothers shouldn't touch sisters that way.

I sand up shakily, the pain shooting my core only increases as I drop to the floor with a cry, you chuckle as I start to crawl to the bathroom, slowly but surely I shut the door.

I lie in a bathtub, naked and in pain, I can't get my brothers hands and how he used them out of my head, I can't get rid of the feeling on my pale skin, I feel *****.

I feel so *****.
~ Kat Herondale.

I melted into your arms,
Blood pulling from my mouth as you stared at me with no emotion,
I cried out as I looked at the blood that came from my stomach,
My baby, my love, my love was gone.

I woke in the hospital three weeks later,
The doctors congratulated me on my survival,
But my baby was the one they should be congratulating.
Not me, I should be dead,
My baby should be with her grandmother,
Not dead.

Weeks later, I seen you, on death row, for murdering of a human child.
My baby.
I watch your terrified eyes as they sat you in the chair,
I watched you quiver in fear.
I watched you take your last breath,
And I smiled that day.

My baby lay down in my arms as I thought of her brother,
My smile faltered, but I stood and left to soon.

But my baby, my baby girl lay happily, giggling in her crib as I tickled her sides and smiled happily down at her.

You took a part of me with you that day, my baby boy I hope and pray to god never got to see you in heaven.
Or I will personally claw your eyes out and drag you to hell myself.

~ Kat Herondale.

The brush of your lips is my weakness,
The push of your hands is my center,
The truth of your words **** me slowly,
But I knew the moment you fell to the ground,
I let you fall to your knees in a pool of your own blood,
And I was the one with the gun,
I pulled the trigger,
It was me that took your freedom,
Because your love was my life,
And I didn't want it.
I didn't deserve the warmth of your lips,
The warmth of your beautifully small hands,
and the truth of your words.
Because a monster that is myself deserves nothing but immortal hell.
and you deserve it all.
All that I can't give
~ Kat N. Herondale