Mother Calls

Mother calls, but I

Am already gone, like the wind

Through the trees, or the words

Of the freed, slave to the past

I was, searched, gaped, swallow

Always last, because I fought first

They made a mess of my face

Stripped my hands and tore my heart

I was one, now I am twenty one

Twenty one years, twenty one faces

Each crueler than the last

Pumice and ash cover my hands today

I struggle to tear away the sinful flesh

Of years I wished to forever forget

Internally rearranged, eternally damned

Forever believing that men

Meant anything but harm

Sweat bottled in tiny eyes

Last a million years, forever untapped

By the wasteful bliss of society

The kerosene diaries lost to time

Kisses young are memories old

Was I ever a free child

Not grated by abuse, taunted by hunger

Lost in a world that never loved me anyway

I'm interested in hearing what you have to say

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s