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jessica-bullionPoems
Wanting the experience to be gone Yet understanding why it happened I remind myself every knights night has its dawn While my heart remains flattened All of a sudden my body became a statue She wanted this to be my punishment What was done is done and fighting back has no value After all, I was her baby but then became contorted and bent My father enters the room and picks up on the familiar scent I sob and shake while holding my tender body Evil laughs after she has inflicted both physical and mental torment Hope exits and fear embodies Alone angry and afraid How does a temper reach that level of rage? Piecing together what was torn apart from a trusting blade I quietly fight my demons inside this donated cage.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 12:32 PM UTC
Donated Cage.
Wanting the experience to be gone Yet understanding why it happened I remind myself every knights night has its dawn While my heart remains flattened All of a sudden my body became a statue She wanted this to be my punishment What was done is done and fighting back has no value After all, I was her baby but then became contorted and bent My father enters the room and picks up on the familiar scent I sob and shake while holding my tender body Evil laughs after she has inflicted both physical and mental torment Hope exits and fear embodies Alone angry and afraid How does a temper reach that level of rage? Piecing together what was torn apart from a trusting blade I quietly fight my demons inside this donated cage.
Written by
jessica-bullion
American
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 12:32 PM UTC
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