.defeat. Poem by Elizabeth Tyease Collins

A prisoner of defeat,
She drowns upon her two feet.
She struggled with the tossing and turnings of mistrust,
The misguidance of love and the attention and the learning of
Love and lust.

She drowned within her inner battle of her worst enemy which was her,
Who hung on her every word to make sure to destroy her.
She drowned upon her two feet,
She struggled winning and losing her trust,
Her confidence and morose attitudes towards life teetering and tottering.
People told her that her eyes were gorgeous,
That her smile had the power to save the world,
But she only felt the need to cut up more flaws and to see herself within a complexity unlike her very own.

Her reflection mocked her innocence and her defeat and her courage to see,
But her flaws were blinded,
Appearing absent mindedly within talks of conversation,
Within her reactions happening simultaneously,
Within her head was a battle that the flaws knew would win,
She grew crazy within herself but was only a hard empty shell.

A prisoner of defeat she raised her hands up towards the sky,
Offering her soul to whom ever would take the last broken pieces
Of her true self,
She promised to herself not to make herself last any longer,
Any longer than she could handle.
The love people handed to her in a silver platter she only flipped over and relinquished,
Fit with lies was how she took it,
So there she stood upon her two feet,
Underwater where her immaturity shall weep,
A prisoner of defeat.