I remember being in history class one day. We were learning about something that had to do with "forms of torture." There was one that stuck out to me more than the others.
It was where the victim was strapped down so they couldn't move their arms or legs.
A cage full of rats were placed on their stomach, the cage was steal so it was more like a steal box if anything. Except the bottom was out so the rats were walking on the victims stomach.
They would light a lighter and hold it to the cage so it would freak the rats out and they would try to get away from it. The only way the rats could would be to crawl through the victims skin. So the rats would claw at the victims stomach, it was pure torture.
I guess the reason that stuck out to me so much is because that's how my mind feels.
It's like I just have these rats (my thoughts and emotions)
Clawing at my brain trying to escape but not knowing how to. So they keep going crazy trying to leave.
My thoughts and feelings are these hungry wild rats & I want to let them out because the stress would be gone but I guess my steal cage does have a bottom.
YOU ARE READING
My bleeding heart
PoesíaI have written a lot of poetry and thought it would be nice to post on here. Every poem that is posted is by me from my brain. please do not steel but you may share. thank you , hope you enjoy!
