Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2018 Peter J
Elizabethanne
I am seventeen years old
And I’m sitting at the bottom of my tub.
I’ve cracked my wrists open like the windows in my room-
I’m trying to let some light in
I need to breathe fresh air into my body.
this is the only way I know how
I have closed the curtains,
boarded up the doors.
you had a key
And you trekked in mud and pine needles from the giant spruce tree outside.
I pick them out of my hair
And line them up on the side of the stained porcelain tub.
I am thinking of putting out a foreclosure sign in my front yard-
Abandoning these halls and leaving everything but this stained tub behind.
Seventeen is hard and rough,
It had calloused hands and it took things from me I wasn’t ready to give.

- I am twenty now
- And I’ve redone my home and tore out the stained tub
 Nov 2018 Peter J
Elizabethanne
I think maybe I would have liked
To have been loved gently
But I sunk
With broken knees at your alter
Pledged Allegiance to a false god
Who spoke the Old Testament like it was truth
And the hands that were wrapped around my throat
were dipped in holy water
so even in death I was blessed
He will preach
To all the women he has turned into sin
Say -with a soft caress across my check
That echos and vibrates off the walls
Like the silence after a gun shot
“If you love me you’ll do this.”
manipulation comes easy to him
Hand to God
he is your salvation
And no one will ever love you like he does.


- He can’t be your salvation
- Because you already saved yourself
Next page