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Jul 2020
ankles held firm
his shoulders lurch

branches loom ahead
I duck in ashen forests

'Do all Uncle says,'
Mother spat again

face is stinging
air's thinning

I'm milk-bag

he yanks
me higher


'Here we are
my sweet!'

the stiff door
creaks slowly

his treacle tone
mocks the dust

dead moths stir
in alarm


I'm flung


in me

I die


they all do it


I disappear to
holes in the wall

they watch in silence
and let me stay on

cold-blooded fire
burns red

do I live

I pray


staring out the
window I see

sifted icing
sugar peaks

my Mountain
smiles strong

sparkling clean
in warming sun

Whoever made it
is my Friend

a gift

for life


it's my

I'm two


#child #innocence #destroyed #alone #mountain #clean #strong
for some, betrayal starts early... and the body remembers... as does the mind
eleanor prince
Written by
eleanor prince  Australia
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