Looking in the mirror
I can see your hands around my neck...

Deep pain and torture
during ritual abuse...

...
First version of the poem...

Enclosing myself
away in a shadowed ball...

Once again I cannot sleep
as insomnia becomes routine...

Just one little cut,
one little cut...

If only you could see how beautiful you are
both inside and out...

Sometimes I reach that certain point
when all I need is you...

I still think of you by the way
its been a while since i seen you...

They have no idea what they have done
my life may as well just end...

Devastating news
of losing an unborn child...

Your voice says who you are
thats what people say...