.untitled. [really Corny I Know Eh...] Poem by Elizabeth Tyease Collins

Hands bare,
torn of skin and bone,
you told me to live life on my own.

Whipped and tattered was my heart,
your laughter filling up my fright,
my eyes red from stress,
your knife glinting in the darkness.

Hands bare,
torn of pride and joy,
you had me trapped and you sliced me
once, because you knew I told you lies,
twice, for seperation so you slit my wrists for me,
and three times for everytime it took for him to lose his self control.

I was his puppet and I was here and there,
and he left me bleeding that faithful day,
surprised I grabbed my throat and felt the world go black,
for I did what was right and never ever looked back