Victim

Your hands tight around my throat
You pull the words from my insides
A guttural growl
No shape, no form

Your fist hard against my gut
Every thought escapes
As the wind from my spirit takes flight
Nothing solid, except the concrete

Where you leave me kneeling
Beaten
A thief in the night
Stealing the only thing that was ever mine

Hearing only what you want to
Everything except my cries

NH
2013

Comments

Powerful writing here. Visceral and scary.
aka_andrea said…
Feel the fear in this and the loss..so intense.
hyperCRYPTICal said…
Raw these words Natasha and the fear is palpable.
Anna :o]

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