Billings, MT USA
I would rather you come at me with one thousand knives;
throw your fists in to my face.
I would rather you unleash your beastly rage upon my body,
than to sever my soul with your injurious words.
I am but a rotten peach,
molding, sour and distasteful in your eyes.
A failure to your senses of satisfaction,
I was never what you wanted,
n’er shall I be.
Icy words that trip like strong daggers from your lips
are your forté, what you live for,
Sonambulistic, subhuman, nothingness...
I capriciously depress to my knees.
The suffering you alone have given reason,
is to no avail, my greatest loathing.
Your detrimental words lacerate
the tiny, congruent threads of the tapestries
within my heart.
Your bitter coldness tears at my aching lungs,
and I find it arduous to even breathe.
And the time may come that, perhaps, I might escape
the tribulation you bestow upon me....
Though, you may find yourself nonexistent, in time,
these bitter wounds will fill with salt with every
haunting memory of your mistreatment.
And I shall cry out with the tortured souls from Hell,
yearning to escape the pain, longing for even death;
yet, knowing my anguish is an element of my whole,
it is a commodity which is embraced and nurtured
at the hand of my own sweet, innocent child inside.
"She looked at her life
like lines, never-ending,
reforming and bending."