She screams into her pillow, curling into a ball.
Her body feels dirty, but she had put her body to use.
She never wanted this,
But she can't seem to stop.
She holds back the tears
Her worst nightmare,
The day she finally gave in and her body no longer had value.
YOU ARE READING
Misunderstood
PoetryYou could hear it all... The sweet rhythm she made with her violin The banging of the stick to the drums The sound that came were hiccups and screams What happened to them.
