A single person who started it all,
A single word, and her enemy would fall.
An argument at school, an argument at home.
Little voices taking knives to her peace.
Shrieks awoke her and tainted her fantasy, draining the colour from her fairytale.
Recovery began, just to be halted by shouts,
At her.
Every day, every night.
Shouts.
Internal war raged and salty water stained her dreams.
Brittle as glass, she mustn't tell,
Not infect them with her plague.
Fragility was soon replaced by fire.
Hatred consumed her.
For herself, those who hurt her, those who loved her.
Anyone. Everyone.
Desiring rest, but craving revenge,
Refusing to inflict that damage,
She longed for freedom,
Distrust on her tongue,
Believing their desire to break her.
The snipes made her fingers curl and her eyes see red,
Bloodlust clouded her clarity.
They deserved to pay,
They'd tarnished her soul,
Snapped her spirit.
Believing herself broken, she sought the only one left.
The dam fractured, and only the pain flooded out .
A new freedom coursed through her veins, filling her with love, strength and hope for the future.
The darkness had abated.
~
I've tweaked this so many times now, but I like to think it gets a bit better every time.
Just as angsty but a bit closer to the truth
-Mixy
YOU ARE READING
Tapping Keys
PoetryThe sweet tapping of keys lulls them asleep, Ignites the fire, Frees the spirit, Gives the right to judgment, Gives hope to those who need to most, Steals from the wordy, To give voices to the quiet. The brutal hitting of keys stirs the soul, Breaks...
