The urge to kill ‘it’ still burns bright… the warm glow from the embers of my hate for ‘it’ light up my life… maybe the only light in my life… the wound is still fresh.. the blood is still warm.. slowly it trickles down my face… reminding me I am still here.. still alive, the pain will always be there, just that I have gotten used to it, its more like second skin … a skin I would rather not have....
Tears and blood, a heady concoction…… and I lay there while they stood over me, blow after blow, more blood and more tears… they were on a high… a high like never before… high on my blood and tears…. Slowly I could taste it too…those faces.. those eyes those images can never be unseen...
