Escaping the grasp of the one whose body you crept out of.
Certain in the future that you would mirror their faults, sizzle with their rage.
Losing control with a single distortion; you are covered by memories of words that pierce like blades.
Inside of oneself is blame for what may come and what is lost without a chance to redeem.
Picked apart they will see what spills from you and will break your beams.
Seeping from what can only be explained as a hole never healed from a guardian with ill intent.
Ever so open to change, and finding it hard to get to a point of dissent.
About the Creator
Ashley Wrigley
In a world where one almost feels pushed out of place, writing gives people a way to connect through readable thought. This is where I find my satisfaction. I prefer writing fictional stories; however, I also enjoy unraveling deep truths.
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He Loved Her...
Can't speak yet she hasn't forgotten how to think Can't feel yet she still knows what is real Cornered she just cowers Tallying the hours until she's free Struggling in darkness to find the key's grace That will relieve her from this suffocating embrace
By Nichole Campbell4 days ago in Poets
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