The top twisted right off
Her eyes leaked like a child's
Hah
That was not a 'child-safe' lock
Lips cracked, a faint smile
In slipped a little pill
And perhaps another
A few minutes later, maybe a few more
See, but she took them right
Because she was ill
the bottle told her
it would bring some sleep
something she hadn't done in
so, so long
Now, you see, her head against the pillow
it felt so right, so right now
And the whiskey warmed her stomach
It's funny
Since that night
She hadn't even laid on her bed
because she remembered watching the ceiling
Staring past his eyes, keeping her mouth pressed tight
As those drunkard's hands took the only thing
left that was hers
This time
the edges of the walls blurred
She felt the light in her chest flickering
Now it was finally hers again
her life
it was hers
he couldn't have it
Author notes
Option 5, as you can probably tell.
I wanted to tell an account and try to make it very different from a typical poem about suicide.
Gl1tt3rn1nj4
A contest entry
- Plethora Of Options by Play Pretend..
650 points, ended June 10, 2008, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Hurt...Inside an abused victim's heart... by voodoo ink.
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Comments
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What a chilling poem you have penned here, thank you for sharing this with us, poet...
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This is powerful..
She lost, but at the same time, she won.The last stanza stuck out the most because it seemed like her moment of triumph. Its makes me sad...
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Please put your SN in the authors box.
Thank You.
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