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kayla-lynnPoems
Smears of charcoal under my eyes The white of my bones shines through my skin Blood streams through the cracks in the floor Horror behind me, horror above Chained to the basement wall, ravenous Awaiting my abductor, half curious The door screams and creaks open My body jumps, a frightened child ***** boots stomp slowly down the stairs To the rhythm of my petrified heart DEAD YET? He bellows My mousy chest no longer moves Up and down There is a sickening silence Heart attack Is there existence after this day? No escape He trudges closer, squinting at my shell My once beautiful thin frame Now resembling a Holocaust victim Rib cage exposed, eyes locked He sneers again, I asked you a question My voice box is being strangled By the sadistic frog in my throat The seconds tick as I find my words Piece them together in my mind And try my best to lock away my strength You may be able.. Kick *To **** my body..* Steel toed boots To slice me to bits.. Crack But I promise you.. Another rib You cannot.. Bleeding **** I can taste my decay My essence..
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Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 4:20 PM UTC
Stockholm Syndrome
Smears of charcoal under my eyes The white of my bones shines through my skin Blood streams through the cracks in the floor Horror behind me, horror above Chained to the basement wall, ravenous Awaiting my abductor, half curious The door screams and creaks open My body jumps, a frightened child ***** boots stomp slowly down the stairs To the rhythm of my petrified heart DEAD YET? He bellows My mousy chest no longer moves Up and down There is a sickening silence Heart attack Is there existence after this day? No escape He trudges closer, squinting at my shell My once beautiful thin frame Now resembling a Holocaust victim Rib cage exposed, eyes locked He sneers again, I asked you a question My voice box is being strangled By the sadistic frog in my throat The seconds tick as I find my words Piece them together in my mind And try my best to lock away my strength You may be able.. Kick *To **** my body..* Steel toed boots To slice me to bits.. Crack But I promise you.. Another rib You cannot.. Bleeding **** I can taste my decay My essence..
© October 2010 Sarah Lynn
kayla-lynn
Written by
kayla-lynn
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 4:20 PM UTC
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