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.