Uninvited

A brief abstract poem about being abused as a child...with an unexpected ending.

You took, uninvited, from your vantage point on that mountainous spire of evil upon which you perched, as the crimson blood of the day dripped from your mouth like slow mud on snow.

 

Reaching down to me, with your molten fingertips and metal hands, you grabbed for remnants of what you had ripped, for I was no longer whole, just tattered pieces of a mind gone manic and mad.

 

All you sent me was dark sludge filled with fermented and marinated madness, entangling me in slimy, shell-less, and vile things that slogged about, unencumbered.

 

With that came a shelter-less discord, screams and cries in the black sky, that pelted my back like cinder rain, even as knew they were my own in this psychopathic nightmare.

 

You never gave back, withholding those emaciated bits of my spirit for your own offensive and oily crude purposes, all the while squeezing the breath from my neck with your desiccated hands.

 

And with these doings, I waded through the unending night, dragginh on, immersed in these terrifying psychological interludes, as went the pastime, now torn away baseline, of my youth.

 

And then my sanity began to fall away, as a lethal and permanent digression from reason, so I reached out grasping, in this intangible horror, taking you with me, killing you with my jagged thoughts.

Copywrite©2012

All rights reserved.

Barbara L. Brown

Author's Note

Awards:

- A Shrouded Sliver of Hope Contest 3rd

- What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger Contest 10th Place