Saturday, 12 August 2023

Wounds

 


Wasted youth

didn't give excuse.

Far away from home.

So confused,

reckless too.

You took advantage.

Thoughts flooded

with questions.

Unanswered.

Floors, wooden

echoed heartbeats,

drunken mind leaps.

Floors wouldn't contain

the tears that weep.

 

Drunken youth,

fell for untruths.

Drinking enflames

years of hurt, tears of shame.

Never knew

the rules to the game.

Took a sip

from a bottle of self-hate,

then gulped down the rest

to sate my thirst.

Wanting to be loved

just made it worse.

 

Self-hating youth,

fell flat

in his own self-abuse.

Fell for other lies

that poured like acid rain

into wounds,

but that didn't give the excuse

to touch me the way you did.

To make me feel like a lost little kid.

Alone in a world of hurt and pain,

a place so far from hope,

you could have handed me my rope.

 

Talked of God, then tempted me

with demon drink, devilish way to trick,

a youth without a clue.

It never gave you the right,

to make that move. Making me feel sick.

I never wanted to touch, to feel that way.

You could have just beat me with a stick.

I never gave you the right to touch my

dictionaries can't put into words

the hate I felt inside myself

but I forgive.

 

 

 


Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling

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Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 
 
Kyle


 

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