Poetry

Untitled

She got locked up after awhile.
They said she's a killer but she only ever killed me.
Truth be told I was killing her.
Dying right infront of my eyes and I felt like a monster.
She wasn't one to beg for her life, it's the last resort for her.
It came to us eventually, there was scars and a lot of fear wrapped around her.
Terrified she said, of the possibilities.
Voices in her head spoke of tragedies.
They told her to hurt herself so she did.
They spoke of her death times ten.
She had a million ideas in her head and they wouldn't stop speaking.
All she ever wanted was for the voices to stop.
Limb by limb I watched her body become a playground for love and violence.