i could hear the electricity buzzing
your eyes on my body
neon signs have never been more beautiful
what you used to call me whenever you weren't high
you found a certain pleasure in watching me squirm
the smell of smoke and lust rang in the air and suddenly I wasn't mine anymore
i was someone else's
not yours
you weren't yourself
neither the light nor the dark could claim me
that doesn't mean they didn't try
i tried and tried to be free
but the booze in your breath kept me captive in a cell of poison
you shoved me into a puddle ridden alleyway and I prayed I didn't cry out
'never show weakness...
they play at your faults that way'
but I wanted to scream
In his face
In his life
Into every choice I made that led me to this dreadful situation
The neon shades didn't seem so comforting anymore
I feared them and they basked in it
The power lines, too loud
My pounding head ached for paracetamol
And the papers flying within the wind
I flew too that night
Way high into the sky
But I wasn't your prisoner anymore
I could only hope that was forever.
-m
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mel·an·cho·li·a
Poetry/ˌmelənˈkōlēə,ˌmelənˈkälēə/ noun deep sadness or gloom; melancholy. "rain slithered down the windows, encouraging a creeping melancholia" a collection of stories, quotes and poems TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF DIFFERENT DISORDERS AND ISSUE...
