All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Misogyny points a gun at my head.
I should have seen this coming but it was hope that lured me into this h*ll hole.
Misogyny and anger, both dressed in black, hold me captive.
Forgiveness and hope both in white, but who’s that behind them?
It’s just naivety.
The three of them abandon me in this cold, damp cellar, ropes tight around my wrists… and two dark figures circling my corpse.
They beat me up as the world around them shudders, the sunlight only left outside to quiver.
The numbness creeps through my bones, only a few moments till I’m buried deep in this h*ll hole.
Loneliness stands by me, prodding my face into the murky mud at their feet, then holds my head there with its foot and smirks at the others.
Anger sits by me and watches my heart turn a darker shade of red, until my heart has turned a black stone.
I then feel a knife held to my back, it is only hypocrisy, the only one willing to kill me in my own cold blood.
I cannot move, for my now my heart is black and stones, if I kill them, I will only be killing myself.
You see, these black figures have consumed my mind and soul.
I cannot fathom the possibility of being held captive by your own self.
My arms are limp, my head is still… A moment of realisation, that I am incarcerated in my own reality.