art, creative writing, depression, Mental Health, mental illness, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

Pain is the tattoo on my skin

My scratching shows my pain-
Pain that I hide
Even from my very own mind.

Time passes and I am less overwhelmed
But it doesn’t stop the pain which overwhelms
Inking blood onto my skin.

Conflicted feelings- anger, hatred, love, lust, forgiveness, despair,
All suppressed from the one who experiences them all-
How can you hold so much emotion within one soul?

My soul died when I started to feel the sense of heartache in my heart-
The root of feeling expressed,
What feels so true.
What kills so freely,
What perishes life.
Nothing hurts more than feeling life
Within the depths of your heart
So strongly.
Not even art
Would free me of the hold he had on me.

He took my blood from my body
And he killed me.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016


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