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Jan 2020
I was 14 when I was put in prison.
Controlled by a guard that would threaten if I disobeyed to collapse all I knew around me.
To ruin the lives of those I loved but he wouldn’t
I promised my word of silence, tell no soul then no souls would be lost or damaged.
I was their protector.
They’re only hope.
Do as I say he demands.
Wear this!
“No don’t wear that.”
and call me by my name
“Who am I to you?!”
That crippling word used for control
Taking away any meaning that word could mean in different context
Crumpled me up by his fist and blew away the dust
I tasted freedom for the first time
I sipped on the ability to run, free
I was able to breathe
Those souls were released
But what do I do with mine?
Fill it with the poison of what I hadn’t experienced before
I became the destructor of those souls
Crashing and setting fire to them all
With my hatred for anything tying me down
And throwing those chains back on
Turning my back on those who would’ve searched for the key til the end of time.
I ran
back to prison
My own prison of thoughts and chances I missed
Consumed by the “what if’s”
Losing my mind
But slowly crawling to a stand
Stand to a walk
Walk to a run
I will fly again
I will fly
The poison ****** from my body.
I am living.
I’m flying
My attempt at smash poetry. Be gentle with me.
Kinsey Jordyn
Written by
Kinsey Jordyn  Indiana
   WickedHope, Noah and Mable Erina
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