Dear Body of Mine, I am Sorry.

by ABake   Jul 6, 2009


I am looking right into your eyes, but my ears have tuned out; I see your mouth moving but the words just don't seem to register anymore. You're using hand motions, so I assume you're getting angrier as the minutes tick by- The sting on my right cheek and then the left proves all that I have been assuming...

The cold floor feels good on my aching bones as I count the assortment of bruises you have given me; You give them just like gifts on Christmas day- I am starting to think I lost my ability to cry. As a child, I was always told after 7 days you become accustomed to something.

What I can't stop doing however, is asking God what I did to deserve this; Did I not pray enough? Is it because I didn't help that old lady across the street? Searching and searching my mind... I come up with nothing. I am not allowed to talk to anyone- So I talk to God and all of the dead souls who are listening. I know in my heart, he will be the one who puts me where they are.

Another day another beating; A new black eye to replace the one that hadn't even gotten the chance to heal. More bruises and broken bones for this young yet old body of mine. Another hit to the little pieces left of my heart- Every once in a while, I sneak a peak out of the bathroom window and watch the world I wished I live in as it passes me by.

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  • 14 years ago

    by BornAgainWriter

    The sting on my right cheek and then the left proves all that I have been assuming...

    *wow, Amber, I don't know what to say. I really like this line. So poetic and...painful sounding.

    You give them just like gifts on Christmas day- I am starting to think I lost my ability to cry. As a child, I was always told after 7 days you become accustomed to something.

    *I like this bunched up group of letters. They are fit perfectly together. 3 thumbs up!

    What I can't stop doing however, is asking God what I did to deserve this; Did I not pray enough? Is it because I didn't help that old lady across the street? Searching and searching my mind... I come up with nothing. I am not allowed to talk to anyone- So I talk to God and all of the dead souls who are listening. I know in my heart, he will be the one who puts me where they are.

    *You're going somewhere happy. I just know it. Dark moods usually convince you that the end is going to be somewhere dark. But, it's not true. You can push through it. You've pushed through everything else. You're stonger than you give yourself credit for.

    Every once in a while, I sneak a peak out of the bathroom window and watch the world I wished I live in as it passes me by.

    *As a poem - NICE way to close it out.

    I like the poem Amber. Nicely written.

  • 14 years ago

    by mzlovehate

    Damn, this is a sad and heart-felt piece. much kudos because it was honestly a nice piece

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