The very essence of captivity

October 8, 2010
Self-proclaimed hatred that fills up this cup of mine,
not half empty, nor half full

I am fictitious,
made to represent all your wrong-doings
and mistakes that lead to my demise

A story hidden within these eyes

Pull the string,
I am gone

You're fingers have touched my insides, and wiped me dry
of all the cleanliness and emotions I used to feel

You will never be envisioned as someone worth rememberance,
because I have seen you through your darkest days
and I know you will never change

Rusted chairs and whispery words, thrown under my backside,
(i cant stand up without your groping hands there to control me, to hold me and refuse to let go...)
through the trap door that once held the seeds that God gave me,
I am empty and you are full of life

Uncommon constructed afternoons
just the pencil and paper, and my corrupted mind
filled with images of adultery and deception

Questions fill my mind more than answers and excuses

You've taken me to another world;
one that I have no patience, no curiosity to explore

and I feel your marks, lingering underneath my skin
taking me further away from myself,
until I am sunk completely

Your parasite, is still inside
eating the raw flesh that was left behind, in my place

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