It was not much but they took it away.
They disrobed me of my thoughts,
They ransacked me of my feelings,
They peeled away at my soul,
They tore me of my mind
And the only thing I had left was my blood.
The blood that leaked out of me in every outlet that was available.
The liquid seemed to pour out of my hands.
My hands that once held their own shape,
That used to guide me and others,
The hands that allowed comfort for one and
Gave the opportunity for safety to another
The liquid seemed to pour out of my heart.
The one that beat too quickly at times,
Times of excitement and times of panic.
The heart that was open to many and to all.
The heart that stung when saddened,
And howled when broken.
The liquid seemed to pour out of my mouth
Where lips once sketched a story upon tale
Where cries formed from laughter and doubt
Where tongue glided across that of another's
The mouth that was used to fight back,
Now silenced and oozing the red blood.
And there I sat, in the pile of my own blood.
The familiarly of it all came back that instant.
For this is how it always was.
It was how it always would be.
The minute I find myself comfortable,
They go and strip it away from me.
