March 21st, 2003

Broken

I can feel it,
The bruise forming on my cheek
My hand flying unconsciously to my neck
Covering the marks
My head hung low
My eyes downcast
Ashamed of what I am
Of what I let him do
My broken spirit
Whimpering in the dark
My eyes dull
Without the natural shine
I used to posses
My body sore
Lying on the floor
Curled protectively around my heart
Which has alreayd been beaten
Bloody and torn
Displayed out before my eyes
His latest toy
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