across the room I feel
his scorching gaze,
filled with swirling anger
in a mind set ablaze.
recoiling at his presence,
shrinking away from his touch
for I shall always remember
being in his cruel clutch.
how he tortured and abused me
playing such a painful game,
branding with a flaming poker
so I would always wear his name.
exhausted from his exertions
he fell back onto his filthy bunk
passed out in his own urine,
from his overdose of junk.
this is where I left him
for the athorities to find.
lucky to be alive, I survived,
but I almost lost my mind.
Comments
hello Mark,
most of it is history. but it was one of those butane cigarette lighters with the outrageously adjustable flame. I was nineteen and into speed (crystal meth amphetamine) he was heavily into H.
it is great to see you, too! I will be here more often. this is the only poetry site I am on now.
*Hugs, Cat
ever, eddy