I was there in the corner,
All alone,
No voice,
Only fear was my company,
It was that time, I went to a place
Where the pain disappeared,
Even only for the first few blows,
The pillow so soft on my face,
It soaked up my tears,
It soaked up my fear,
With each blow, white never hurt so much
I didn't have a happy place,
Just pain, the look of hate upon the face,
The pillow talk, was hash,
It was to lessen the marks,
Hidden from the outside world,
These feathers hit like a fist,
Shaded in white,
Shaded in hate,
A voice was needed, to be released,
Made to think the voice would never be heard,
Pillow talk carried on,
Till the pain screamed out behind the white
And the pillow talk did stop.
Life went on, years did pass,
The anger of a damaged childhood
Simmers,
Boils,
Rages,
All beneath the surface, Never to be released,
The time has past, bruises gone,
But though it was a limited time
The pain of the past
Its a burden on my heart, that'll carry on.
Tried to be broken, but I survived the hate..
