Savage Grace

With each sadistic dart
 a chiseling of my heart
tears turned to dark ash
staining my soul
dark desires begin to roam.
Feed the need..
Feed the hunger.
Feed the ache.
Torture becomes love
hate becomes adoration
voices whiplash
stinging rage
all shall be made to pay.
Thought I was a doll.
Thought I was a toy.
Thought I could be used
I could be abused.
Thought I would never retaliate
would never fight back.
How wrong you were
as I stand above thee
blade stinging
blood
slow streams of death
coloring your flesh crimson gold.
I am not a timid voice
lost to your primal urges
this is where I shine
when home comes to roost
the death of your carnal sins
©June 1519
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