Not A Victory

Mists
thickening to fog
twinning 
ethereal chains
clinging to my ankles
keeping me
holding me
in place;
for torment
for abuse
your side long glances
burning with righteousness
enough to keep me 
from running away.
Words
pierce the veil 
numbed with narcotics
views softened 
alcohol submerged 
pastel glows 
glum smile 
plastered all over my face.
Tricked.
Traded.
Parade.
Auctioned off to the highest bidder.
The throng grows
encompassing me
passing me 
from hand to hand
from mouth to mouth
until I am shredded
strewn
my inner peace dissolved.
You have won
my master three
watch now
I succumb to thee.

©March 15/23
Picture via Pinterest

Pretty Baby

Hush pretty baby
don't you dare cry
your new mama
she will poke out your eye.
One day
warm comfort stolen away
replaced
cold cell
bare mattress
chained to the floor
crying tears
screaming for mommy;
the shock 
glassy eyed
paraded before
auctioned off
to the highest bidder.
Fear builds
constant
can never walk the walk
talk the talk.
Sass earns you a backhand
a needle in the arm
barely conscious
but no one cares
you are meat
a commodity
used
abused
thrown to the wayside
when your uses are over.
Hush pretty baby
don't you cry
your new mama
she will let you die.

©March 6/23