MY OWN CROSS

these are the same lips that created the hierarchy
I imagine you with a dirty soul and jagged teeth
angry foolish eyes
I feel you have dripped spoiled blood on to me
you said you wanted be bruised
you said I was a beautiful girl and you wanted something I’d never give you
my hands were ice cold
you said this time it would be real
I was horrified
these words gnashing viciously replayed over and over in my head on my bed with a
knife
my lips bled
my heart tore
I said Id never be a victim
I pictured it as something sacred and magnificent
It was evil
I felt stolen
felt crucified
this sadist isolation you inflicted
the bruises lasted a month
the scars forever
you said you would take it
you would hurt me
you would take what you wanted
I was left broken
pitiful
poor

ZoE ©

speshulpk@hotmail.com