I stare at a wall
thinking of the cells
the cells she locks herself in
the cells this demon has killed
I think to myself
why would someone
someone so smart
pour it away

it gets harder each day
to remember my childhood
I was the baby
without a bottle
it lives in her reach
a extension
of her arm
it has replaced her hand
that hand that searched
and held me tight
when I hopped the fence
as a toddler
that hand I held when I first crossed the street

Somedays I stare
I think and I pray
to hold her hand
and help her
escape her cell

deciBle deciBle
18-21, M
1 Response Aug 7, 2012

thats deep