one moment i don't feel a thing
and the next im playing sad folk songs
trying to drown it all out.
crying tears for someone that would
never cry for me.
i forget how to breathe.
my gut and my throat tighten.
i feel as if i could rip off my skin.
i want to tell someone but i fear
bothering them.
i want to lay out in the middle
of the road,
walk into a snow covered field,
and submerge into the pacific ocean.
all these feelings are caused by the men
that took my innocence from me
younger than the age of nine.
the first boy i let into my heart
at the age of sixteen is now
apart of the group.
but all he had was good intentions.
my trust was stolen from me
at the age of three,
and ill never get it back.
it's lying within the rubble of
the bricks that have fall,
within the ashes of the fires that ive started, within the rivers of tears that ive cried.
and amongst it all, are the grinning
faces of the men i can't tune out,
even with mumford and his sons.
YOU ARE READING
The Rose and Her Thorns
Poetrya collections of thoughts, feelings, emotions that have been put into words and that have been gnawing at my brain. check out my other poetry book 'among the wildflowers.' ••• poetry collection explicit language all rights reserved completed O6...
