Smile More

Female Hands Bound in Bondage with RopeK. Barratt


I try to break my bonds, but the more I pull,

The more they sink in, biting my flesh, abrading

My skin. My days have become an eternal

Dusk, no place to escape, nothing but

Dust specks dancing in front of the only window,

Above my head, reminding me I am down,

Beneath the steps of the living and free.

And I would scream for their help, but

My throat has become a raw hole,

Devoid of any voice, just a mock of an

Echoing croak, that breaks into wisps of

Something like and ant’s murmur.

I’m not going to survive this.

And I wish I could take back so many things;

Wish I had embrace more, caress more,

Kiss non-stop everyone from my Mum to the dog,

But now it too late and I don’t want to die,

Not like this, and I pray, please, let me die

Old and warm on my bed, but he’s coming

Back: the game is over and no one

Is listening to my pleas. I see the knife

And remember my fifth birthday and the

Pony disguised as a unicorn and then the flash,

The silver streak above my eyes, and then the rip,

The cut, the burn, the warm, thick flood.

And I wish I would have smiled more.


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