28: Abuse

 Hands slide over bodies

Day in and day out

With no recognition.

Bruising every last inch,

Not having a heart to feel from,

But only a stone

Pumping soot and rust

Into it's host streams.

 

With out thinking,

Their hands slide everywhere,

Claiming whatever they want

For only pride of control.

They enter and leave,

Scar and bruise,

Clawing the hearts of their victims.

 

Their victims run for cover,

Cowards are they,

Though none to blame them.

They have every right

To be in pain, hurting oneself.

 

Slits' of a million

Scar onto their bodies,

Accompany to the bruises,

Accompany to the emotional hardship,

Never remaining balanced.

 

Though some wonder what happens

On the inside of those walls

That another would call home

But one inside would call hell.

 

They will never know unless

One of an opening comes forth.

 

Hands slide over bodies

Day in and day out

With no recognition.

Bruising every last inch,

Not having a heart to feel from,

But only a stone

Pumping soot and rust

Into it's host streams.