I hid this in my notebook
Tucked close into my arms
I hid it so you won’t look
Writing is not of my charms
I nurtured you and fed you
Like a mother always does
And tried to defend you
From the monster that I was
Butchered and Beaten
And thrown to the ground
Discarded and eaten
Trash lost and not found
What’s left of it no one knows
It is just another mangled mess
In the wind all of the pieces blow
To the book against my chest
