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The loving torture of childhood

Author: stormyskies
Elite Ratio:    4.26 - 1035 /868 /264
Words: 462
Class/Type: Poetry /Dark
Total Views: 950
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 2804


The loving torture of childhood

Rubbing dirt hurled into her eyes
during the battle of night,
between the sandman and his nemesis.
Darkness saw the same battle rage repeatedly,
wearily the sandman held his ground
her eyes falling with heaviness and tears.

As darkness crept away short respite took its place,
yet sickening events prompted escape
in a bay for the unwell and to lands beyond pain of glass.
Seperating the child from the others here to learn
their only observations, the dirt which stained her face
the aromas of neglect, as they hurled stick and stones.

The ryhme played a broken tune
that never stuck, words deeply pained her.
Numb to hurtling feet and hands,
accustomed to much greater strength.
Sterngth felt as she arrived home,
a roof and walls only,
where no safety and little love could be found.

Greeted by battles of a different kind,
her mothers make-up not a sign of a special outing
but one of disguise, blending blues and greens
around her eyes, foundation distinct with yellowish tinge.
Screams and crashing sounded, ending only with muffled cries,
tears she shared with her mother,
her own disguise undersized materials, forced to fit her tiny body.

Finding slithers of peace beneath covers
she and her life safely hidden.
Until anxiety grew with the expanding blackening of the skies above,
wishing she could shoot with the stars far beyond the earth.
Horror filled dreams to come, were truly living,
not nightmares as she liked to believe,
the only means of splitting evil
from the manly figure she loved.

Cruelty accepted, blame washed over her logic,
the only truths twisted, beaten away
until she no longer knew what was a lie.
Her face rubbed in her own fright
the bed drenched in fitful sleeps.
Teaching her as he did the animals, not to wet the bed.

Set-up to be a liar, scenarios played,
her sanity slipping with broken selves.
Creating impossibility for her
or even those who made small attempts
to free her mind and physically protect,
trying to create fleeting spaces in time,
often annihilated by his control.

Breaking free from this alkatraz as seemeingly
as possible as freedom from the real life prison.
Until the chains broke and fell,
the pressure of her own strength pushing against his.
She made a path to run, yet one which would never be clear
of the obstacles he had placed in her fragile mind.

Submitted on 2012-02-25 20:51:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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