"People expect all stories of abuse
to be loud and angry
but they're not.
Sometimes they're quiet and cruel
and swept under the rug." ~ Trista Mateer
When the sky sips wild thyme,
and the sun savors swells of zenith,
like the sakura essence of spring,
I feel beyond the blushing blues,
the bruised silhouette of victimized wind,
fighting the heinous heat, while barely breathing;
for she did not ask the soulless predators;
familiar fangs, disguised as servers of diamonds,
to steal the innocence from her starry night,
staining the air with bleeding grief,
now the horizon sits ~ a silent spectator~
to a virtue stolen, left to ashes and dust,
of heartbeats soaked in crimson tears...
Categories:
trista, abuse,
Form: Free verse
Standing still
Taking every little pill
Falling down, to the ground
Not making a sound
Shocks of pain blow through my brain
The codine yet strains and wanes the pain
I open my eyes, to my surprise
Everything flashes by,
Mom, dad, my brother, friends, family, trista, Sam, memories, wishes...
My life, everything was so perfect.
I didn't even expect it.
_________________________________________________
Categories:
trista, confusion, death, teen,
Form: I do not know?