Purple bruises,
Soft and misshapen.
My beating heart
Stopped beating.
It was fast
Now it’s slow.
Thud
………
Thud.
Dull echoes
Ring around the tin can.
Barely moving.
Am I even alive?
I don’t feel anything.
I don’t feel the blood rushing through my body,
I don’t feel the joy of life coursing around me.
I just feel
Numb.
Used and left.
What do I do now?
Where do I go?
I’m trapped.
Daydreams of Paris,
A perfect family…
A happy life.
Reality.
Waves crashing into me,
Pulling me under.
My head hit the ground.
Slam.
Blinding pain and light.
No.
No more light.
Not anymore.
I watched it leave,
Fading quickly into the darkness I was left with.
Black replaced my light and filled me with…
Nothing.
I was empty.
My tears were real,
Infused with overwhelming emotion.
One day, they stopped.
(for a while)
Night became my friend,
Darkness became my soul.
When Light returned,
I welcomed it
And shaped it.
I made my own light,
Crafted it into my heart
And locked it away.
There it is still hidden
From the world.
My light is my own.
And no one else’s.
They cannot have it.
They cannot steal what was already stolen from me.
My lesson in life:
Don’t trust anyone.
Don’t let them steal your light.