Torn - Poem by Anita Clark
Victimised I despise, why I gave into such a compromise.
The shower runs, steam engulfs, hands tug at my dirty hair.
Hair your hands once ran through.
So I cut, razorblade so deep, into my skin where my soul bleeds.
Try to sleep but can't relax, with the quickening beat of ny once calm heart, close my eyes but you won't leave, here to poison, bittersweet dreams.
Silent tears from my blue eyes drown, your image, your clothes, your sickened mind.
An innocent mind corrupt way to young, can't turn back, I try to go on.
Your hands that tugged, pulled a my clothes.
Your shining eyes penetrate so deep, into my soul you begin to creep...
Quiet, I know that you can sleep, knowing that you got way with such a deed.
And ever since I'll cross the road, will move away 'No, no...'
But there's one thing I can't escape, a place free from time, date -memory.
Comments about Torn by Anita Clark
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You