Her Story

October 19, 2015 § Leave a comment

The soft naked feet

Stepped onto the grass

Still wet with last night’s dreams

The silver bells tinkled

As she ran to the buttercup

Dancing in the spring breeze.

This was before,

Before she broke,

Before she was scattered across the ground,

Crushed beneath the feet,

Of the jailer of the night.

The supple body,

Once romanced in delight,

With the cool blue lake water,

The wind once played

With her feathery hair

The rain once ran down her body,

In petite streams.

That was before,

Before she became a canvas,

For the vile shadow that prowled the nights.

Sun kissed skin and freckled cheeks,

Tan body and silver anklets

Are now gone.

She is left with battle scars

Both seen and unseen.

She tripped on the stairs she’ll say,

Because some truths are best unheard.


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