She must be rotten to the core.
A poison apple.
Born under a bad sign.
Unlovable.
What is under this scarred flesh of hers?
Where and how is a heart even buried
underneath those veins that run thick with
her mother and father's rage?
Her lungs are filled with gasps of air
heavily polluted by manipulators past and present,
capillaries being constricted by the
anxieties imposed upon her by psychopaths.
She is merely a lonely corpse in the hours
she spends swimming in her own tears,
sinking in the confusion,
swallowed by the isolation and silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment