this head i hold is heavier than him and filled with poison that i spit at you

these bones are weak and refuse to carry me, i lay on my deathbed, a skeleton of trauma

this hair is oily and damaged

this face is pale

these nails are bitten

this soul is numb

this heartbeat goes silent

this body lay beaten and broken and tired

i am not my own anymore

they stole me

but not like in the movies where they capture your heart and hold you in a home of warmth

this was the type where you are scared to breathe

scared to think

scared to think of what they’ll do next

i was caged as the filthy animal

dressed up and forced to star in their show of

neglect

abuse

toxicity

and hate.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton