July 3, 2011

The Beast

By W.R.R.

Why must I be food for the Beast?
Pain as I am taken from mother
rag doll, dripping blood
in the teeth of the Beast
Tears cannot protect
Lies cannot conceal
I taste my own blood
Is it a thing he must have?
Today’s pain is buried
next to yesterday’s hopes
Their gravestones cover my mind
The teeth fasten in my soul again
If he took it all, would I die?
If I take it first, will I be free?

~~~

© W.R.R. 11/3/1995

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.
This entry was posted on Sunday, July 3rd, 2011 at 12:02 am and posted in Poetry by W.R.R.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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