In The Yard
Freezing.
Who would have thought the wind would be so brutal
as to run up and down my body with no permission
and to touch me with its icy fingers… slide over
my skin with no regard to my feelings whatsoever?
In the yard, there is no permission needed to do
or say anything, as long as no blood flows…
brutal words assault my ears as even more brutal
looks lay upon my blue-covered body.
Walking was never like this before, with stupid
little patty shoes of rubber and a coat of some
itchy material made for sturdier stuff than I and
I can feel the wind lick at my thighs…
A hand touches me and I turn instinctively
with a curled fist… braid swinging about to
slap me on my own cheek… my ass grazed,
I return a look of hunger with hate…
A tooth flies as my tit is touched .
and the hair of the hungry one is yanked loose
I've not a clue as to why this bitch wants a
piece of me but I'll be goddamned if she gets it easily…
Sedated.
In a world of walls and metal doors I lay
and I watch the lines in the paint… I think
on many things and I curse to myself as I
try to stay awake… I wish only a few things
as I loll in a small, mean bed…
A world of dreams befalls me and I see
wizards and faeries flitting and thundering
about in my head… it would make me smile
if I were awake, probably… the colours so
brilliant, the faces so clean and pretty
My wishes come out in the dreams and
take me away from this place… to another
time and another day and another year.
When I am sane once more and can
sit in a chair with no force… just because
I want to. When I can go in my yard and
it will not be so… cold.