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by amicus
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1023053
For anyone who has faced abuse and weathered it.
floating, feel like I'm soaring in this wild blue yonder

freedom unbirdled, the tether's loose, flapping in this playful wind

oh the joy, such bliss, which I wish is endless

Smacked my mouth for beauty caused slackjaw

sibbie's pissed, qasama's dolled out a coughing fit for that prepubescent

He's the firstborn, the chosen one, yet while his charge frolics, he falters.

The jaded one will stick it to the younger son.

While left on his own he'll stab and jab, leave me bruised and beaten,

Why I'd ask, his coughing fits formed his reasons to beat me into prostration

The sun bounces off of my smile but that seems to deepen and darken hisdownward spiral

I'm happy, I'm content well sibbie'll take of that.

He'll string me up so I'll not catch the yellow filtered rays.

I want to laugh? I want to play?

Sibbie'll make me scream, sibbie'll make me cry 'cause I'm the apple in mommy's eye

He'll drown me in a pool he helped me make.

Growing up I thought you played tag with a knife.

I'd run from the joy that birthed my torture

Never held out for help He'd bag and bust me capture and clutch me

My legs grew worn and weary heavy with this burden he carried

I tired of this grind of every waking moment him laying into my spine

I never chose to about face and charge this fire. He'd consume me with his ire

His beatings burned me, He scoldings scorched me

his words imparted 3rd degree burns the first time

Well Fuck this I'm brushing off these scabs and brandishing these scars

He wants to play He wants to clash? Fine I'll smite him I'll smash him

I will break him

You hate me sibbie fine, I hate what you've done to me, I hate this fucked up list of shit you've splayed across my life

all those bruises, all those scars, all my tears, I don't know which were worst

I'm gonna turn from you, I'm not going to the bottom of that bottle, you can blame yourself for awhile

You burned me you played with fire well you're set alight in my pyre, wriggle and writhe, scream and shreik


What is this? years later I joke and laugh? I smile while I regale myself with these memories?

Oh great is the power of nostaglia indeed for these tawdry tales to become such a trifle

A shock though it maybe I was not consumed by all the fire for it forced me to aspire from these base and callous means

I stomped out all the flames and forged a better way, I don't know where I'll end up but I won't be stuck in your rut

I'll fly and I'm sure I'll flounder but you'll not bind my tether. I may not soar but I'll not scowl

The sun, she still lights my way, she freed me from this undertow. She guides me by a different light

Her touch doesn't singe, her tongue won't cut, her brillare smile makes the sun seem dim

And my heart lighter then air

thanks for making me fireproof you scoundrel
© Copyright 2005 amicus (yinyang_550 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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