.internal Struggle, Poem by Elizabeth Tyease Collins

Punctured you left my heart punctured,
dying, you grasped reality and now you're dying,
seeing,
believing love was the anticdote to lifes meaning.

You see now,
that now she's bleeding,
thinking,
that her life would stay the same,
when her parents fought tooth and nail just
to keep her sane.
She's seeing a new her with the mirror
she's seeing for the existence of who she wants to
be she's falling,
into a world where life is just a life of brawling,
tension built from the years of oppression she
couldn't get a hold on herself
so she cried.
She vrie silently so that love would cry,
to make sure that the demons nearly died,
so that finally she could rest her head awhile.

She falls asleep with troubles leaving bruises on ehr sides,
fighting to get a grip of why to hid,
when the knives of the beloved kept her so calm,
she has nothing to do but to give up
being strong,
giving up on trying to find herselg
hold on,
so she's silent.

Her mouth sewn closed with solitude
of her insanity,
she'll die alone and wish for death immediately,
while inside the real her reaps the horrors of her reality